IV: Holocaust
by ArchReaperN7
Summary: The Reapers are here, and the war has finally begun. All sentient life in the galaxy is depending on Shepard to save them. And he will have to assemble the largest military force in galactic history to save those he loves. He will make alliances with people he hates, but will create new coalitions thought never possible. This is the Holocaust. And how far will he go to stop it?
1. Prologue

**HOLOCAUST**

**PROLOGUE**

_December 9, 2185_

_2305 hours._

_Main Living Room, Vakarian Residence, Cipritine, Palaven._

_Garrus Vakarian, Hierarch Thotous Vakarian._

The room was dark, as it usually was at this time of night on Palaven. Only a dim light emitted from the lights surrounding the room, and they didn't add much to the already darkened interior. His sister, Solana, was asleep upstairs as she always was at this time of night, snoring away. His mother was still in hospital from her sickness, and he hoped the credits he had sent her way during his mission against the Collectors had helped. Now, here he sat.

The living room was quite spacious, with a carpet in the middle, and a fireplace on the right, but apart from that, it was relatively spartan. The walls were blank aside from the holographic photo frames representing the family, with his mum and dad, Solana and himself. The sofa sitting on the left was boring and plain, and hardly what you call soft, but yet again, turians didn't believe in softness; they believed in hardness. That's what the military was. There, sitting on the sofa, was Thotous Vakarian, Hierarch of the Hierarchy of Palaven and the Spirit of Talos, and one of Primarch Fedorian's best friends. He sat there in a basic robe that covered his torso and thighs, with a glass of turian ale in hand. Garrus sat opposite him on a seperate chair, a glass of similiar substance in his own three-fingered hand, the turian finally managing to wiggle his own way out of his armor, and into casual civilian clothing; not that it was attractive. Solana herself had said as much.

His father sat there, mulling over the words he had just been forced to digest. Garrus hadn't known what to say when he first came home, as the loss of the Normandy and Shepard and the rest of the crew was still on his mind, along with his seperation from Tali, and most of all, Kasumi. But he had managed to recover from his moping, and managed to eventually get his dad alone tonight, and right there and then, he told Thotous everything from the very beginning; how he met Marcus, their campaign against Saren and his geth. The revelation of the Protheans' true fate. The Reapers. The Battle of the Citadel. Shepard's death. The battle against the Collectors. Working with Cerberus. Destroying the Collector Base. Defeating the Shadow Broker, and the destruction of the Bahak System that lead to him coming home. By the time he was done, he had given his father his entire life story up until this point.

And he sat there, letting it all sink in. Garrus didn't even know if he would believe him; it was alot to take in. The sheer prospect of an alien race coming to bring complete annihilation upon all galactic life was pretty hard to imagine, but Garrus had made a promise to Shepard to raise as much help as he could; why not start with his dad, a friend of the Primarch's, and of high position on the Hierarchy?

A click of his mandibles, and Thotous turned towards his son, eyes glazing him over as he spoke in a hesitant tone, "Tell me Garrus. Do you really believe this? What Shepard has been saying?"

That question took him by surprise. Garrus didn't narrow his eyes or demand he spit out an answer, but he did shuffle in his seat, placing the glass he held on the table next to him, "Of course I do. Every word of it. I was there with him from the get go; I saw what he saw, and I know its real. The Council doesn't want to admit, and neither does the Hierarchy. The Reapers are very real, and they are coming. I promise you dad; I wouldn't be bringing this up if I wasn't absolutely certain that Palaven was in danger."

Another click of his mandibles, before he gulped down the rest of his ale and placed the glass on the table infront of him, nodding affirmatively, "Tell me son; when, in all of turian history, has the defenses of Palaven been breached?"

Garrus knew the answer to this one. It was a trick question; always was, "Never. Our foundation is strong, our people militarized, and our ships numerous. We are the military arm of the Council, and have been for centuries. Our defenses have never been breached, and the siege of Menae during the Krogan Rebellions does not count."

"Precisely," Thotous replied, his eyes now tinged with worry as his hands folded into his lap, looking at Garrus, "Now tell me; if the Reapers were to invade, what are the chances of our defenses being breached? Of Palaven...dare I think of it..._falling?_"

Garrus gulped, already trying to imagine the fatalities in his head. _Too many to count. Or comprehend. Enough to sicken you to the core, to make you lose hope. And that's exactly what they want. That's how they win. _But he knew the truth of it, there was no point in trying to overexaggerate their survival odds, "If the Reapers invaded Palaven en masse...dad, Sovereign by itself annihilated the Citadel fleet, and took out half the Alliance Fifth Fleet by the time it was finally taken out. If they attacked Palaven...our defenses...they wouldn't be just breached, they'd be overwhelmed."

His father gave a simple nod before moving to stand with a sigh, "Then this is most definitely very serious. A matter of high urgency. It doesn't matter how the Council views this, it must be taken seriously or their idiocy will doom us all."

Garrus widened his eyes as he too stood, posture straight, "Wait, you're taking me seriously? You actually believe me? You believe Shepard?"

Thotous exhaled, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing it, "We may have had our disagreements in the past, and most of them regarding C-Sec, but that doesn't mean I'm not with you on somethings Garrus. You're my son, and when you say something is going to happen, its going to happen. You said you'd leave C-Sec? What did you do? You left C-Sec, and became the damn Archangel. You don't bluff, which means the Reapers must exist if you're this desperate to get everyone to believe you. Vakarians are not crazy, never have been."

Garrus smiled, nodding, "Damn right."

Thotous nodded, motioning to the stairs, "Now you go get some sleep. You'll be needing it. You're coming with me to the Palaven Command tomorrow. Primarch Fedorian must hear of this. He will listen to me."

Garrus widened his eyes, stopping halfway to the stairs and turning around, "Primarch Fedorian? What do you actually plan to do?"

"Get something done, that's what," Thotous declared, "I don't care if I have to shove my talons up his ass, Fedorian will prepare Palaven. We have never fallen, and in this invasion, we shall be ready. Once I'm done with him, our navy will be rallied, our troops ready. And the Council will listen to us; even if that moron Sparatus has to have a tungsten shell shot near his ear for him to listen. Never did like him; spineless _tadik._"

Garrus merely smirked at that, thanking him with a click of his mandibles, "Thanks dad. I'm glad someone believed us," he could only continue smiling as he continued walking up the stairs, satisfied with that outcome.

**{Loading...}**

_December 21, 2185_

_1407 hours._

_Front Entrance, Cerberus Research Facility Sigma, Northern Hemisphere, Gellix. _

_Second Lieutenant Jacob Taylor._

Abandoned. Cold. Windy. Those three words perfectly described the Cerberus facility he currently stood before, the massive blast doors of the base a testament to its emptiness. He had come in hard at the landing pad with the kodiak he had commandeered, expecting a squad of commandos to have come rushing out to meet him head on, and he would have; shotgun in hand and blasting away. But there was nothing. Not a soul to be found. It creeped him out.

He had quickly advanced off the pad, feeling too exposed, and moved forward, his Scimitar shotgun in hand and biotics at the ready. The cold, high speed, snowy winds of Gellix chilled him to the bone as it slammed into his body, his light body armor's thermals nowhere near enough to battle it off, and he swore he could have died of hypothermia if he had stayed within its path for too long; luckily, he had managed to find the main entrance, and above it was shelter. Even here, the place looked just...empty. Like everyone had just packed their bags and left.

He approached the door, weapon aimed high. He looked at the security cameras above, and saw they were following his every movement. _So there is someone inside...that or the cameras were left on, and they're simply motion sensing. _He gave a smug wink at one of them and quickly made his way over to the door, banging his fist against it. Quickly placing his ear against the cold metal surface, he heard the sound echo, but there was no response.

_Maybe the tip was off. Maybe this place has been abandoned._

He had only found this place because of a tip from one of his friends in the Corsairs saying that Cerberus was up to something in this base, and that Jacob should put a stop to it. Oh, he tried, but as soon as he got here, he had just encountered nothing. _Not a peep. This place is empty._

He made a move to leave, but a female voice, hurried, but brave, spoke through the PA system overheard, causing him to whorl around, weapon raised in preparation, "Who are you? State your identity immediately, and your affiliation."

He frowned. _She sounds worried. Something isn't right here. _

"Jacob Taylor," he responded clearly, lowering his shotgun slightly as he edged alittle closer, "I used to work for Cerberus, but a particular friend of mine wasn't too pleased with the way things were run, and he quit, and so did I. I have no affiliation now; only that to Commander Shepard. And you are?"

There was no answer, only the creak and moan of the blast door slowly coming apart and opening. His weapon was up in a heartbeat, ready to fire if necessary. Loading the weapon, he looked down range and watched as an attractive young woman in Cerberus uniform appeared and stepped out, with numerous other Cerberus personnel behind her, numerous predator pistols and avenger assault rifles raised. He looked over the woman, examining her features.

They all wore the uniforms of scientists, as did the young woman currently before him. She wore a mat of raven black hair that reached to her shoulders, and her skin was the same dark-color of his own. She had hazel eyes and smooth cheeks, with ample, red lips. She was beautiful by most meanings of the word, and he found himself disarmed just by looking at her, slowly lowering his weapon as she approached, unarmed, and stopped before him, a smile of...relief on her face.

"Well, you're certainly not Cerberus," she said, stopping hesitantly before him, eying him. He noticed that most of them didn't seem to be on the soldier side of things, and not a single commando was to be seen. They wore Cerberus uniforms, but seemed to be more scared than anything, "Which means you're not an enemy."

That caught him off guard. _Cerberus...an enemy? Maybe they don't work for the Illusive Man anymore? And judging by how scared they are, they seem to be on the run from Cerberus. Maybe...just maybe they have vital intel on their operations..._

He chuckled, lowering his shotgun completely and collapsing it, placing it on the small of his back, "No, I'm friendly. I'm sorry for the confusion here, but why are you wearing Cerberus uniforms if you're not Cerberus? And why are you hiding in one of their research facilities?"

She looked to the rest of the group, nodding for them to lower their weapons. She turned back to him, motioning for him to follow her into the base, and he followed, "We're not. Or rather, we were, until we broke away. This research facility used to be run by us, but we've...had enough of the Illusive Man and the way he juggles our lives around like they're worthless," once inside, the blast door began to creak and slide back together, and she turned back towards him with a shake of her head, "So we're...ex-Cerberus, I guess you could call us. Ex-Cerberus Scientists with nowhere to go. We're hiding here for now and were preparing to evacuate on the shuttles when you got here. The Illusive Man will find us eventually, and he will kill us all."

Jacob merely nodded, understanding the situation. It explained why the scientists looked so terrified, and why they seemed to be fearing for their lives. But Jacob knew that these people had to have had their reasons for leaving. Why else would they risk so much to escape Cerberus' yolk?

"Just why did you quit?" Jacob asked with confusion, "You had to have known this would be the Illusive Man's response."

"Oh, we knew. But we took the chance anyway," she explained, "The Illusive Man had us working on secret projects, but whenever one of us completed one, they'd disappear and we'd never see them again. We never knew what they were working on; cell confidentality in the case of being compromised or suffered a raid from the Alliance. Eventually we got scared. Too scared. Eventually we decided that we either try making a run for it, or we complete the projects and take our chances," she gulped, a took of fear on her face as she bit her lip, still looking at him, "We couldn't take that chance. Some of us have families; children and wives and husbands. So we took them, hid here and were moving to take the shuttles and fly out of here when you showed up. We had feared that the Illusive Man had sent you to demand an inspection, and when he found out..."

He shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I may have been the Illusive Man's go-to-guy back in the day, but like you, I chose to quit. What he's doing...its for humanity, not the galaxy at large, and that's not acceptable. No, I will not report you. What I will do is help you. Keep you eggheads safe," he said with a growing grin, and he saw the fear on her face melt from the sight of it. _Yes, I will help these people. Just like Shepard would have wanted. What he would have done in a situation like this._

"You'll help us?" she asked, "Escape, I mean?"

He nodded, letting his hand fall from her shoulder, but his eyes lingered on hers before turning away, nodding again, "Yes, I'll help you. You people need protection, and I look like the only one with combat experience here, so I guess I'm it."

"But where will we go?" she asked, still unsure of herself.

He looked at her, eyes widening, "You haven't decided where you're going yet?"

She shook her head, "We were winging it until you came. We'd take a few of the shuttles and see where we'd end up. We were considering handing ourselves over to the Alliance; at least we'd be safe then..."

_Clearly you don't know TIM very well. He'd find you, no matter where you hide. No, you need somewhere he'd never suspect...a place so desolate and out of reach, he wouldn't even think of watching over it...and I know just the place..._

"I know a planet," he told her, moving up the steps with her in tow, a confidence in his every step, "A place that the Illusive Man won't even think of."

"Where?" she asked, but when he suddenly turned around and she bumped into him, he only held a finger over his mouth, telling her to be quiet.

"Can't tell you. Not here. Not with people listening. You may think you're all on the same team, but one way or another, one of these guys is probably a spy. A loyalist under the guise of someone terrified just so he can feed info to his real leader," he told her, motioning to another scientist nearby, who seemed to be picking up his equipment and just as quickly dropping them in his great haste to get them onto a nearby Cerberus kodiak. He turned back to her, nodding as he turned around to continue.

"Wait," she called out, and he stopped, turning to her, "You told me your name, but I never told you mine."

He smiled, shaking his head, as he crossed his arms, "No, I don't believe you did. So why don't we begin again; I'm Jacob Taylor, and you are, miss...?"

"Brynn," she stated bluntly, hands clasping behind her back with a smile on her face, back straightening, "Doctor Brynn Cole."

"Nice to meet you doctor," he said.

"Please, call me Brynn," she corrected, waving a dismissive hand, "Least I can do for asking you to help us."

"You didn't ask, I offered," he declared, uncrossing his arms, "But we'd best be moving. Time is not on our side, and by the looks of it, you have a lot to pack. Including people."

They both nodded affirmation, and moved further into the facility, prepared to begin a chase with Cerberus all over the galaxy.

And Jacob would do his best to keep them all safe.

**{Loading...}**

_December 19, 2185_

_1200 hours._

_Skyline Observatory, Talat, Gagujs Continent, Sur'Kesh._

_Professor Mordin Solus._

He stood there, overlooking the beautiful, lush green jungles of the salarian homeworld, Sur'Kesh, taking in its vibrant color and its serene smell. The trees seemed to stretch on for ages, only interrupted by the occassional house, skyscraper or street. Salarians weren't as industrialistic as most species were; they didn't let their cities dominate the landscape, and instead let nature have a part in it too; which is why Talat, the capital city of Sur'Kesh, was essentially just a few skyscrapers, some houses and a few streets amongst a horde of wildlife, trees and rivers.

_Yes. Good choice coming here. Nowhere else to go. Will remind me of what I'm planning to do. Let me know the risks I'm taking with such a task. _He stood there, amongst many others of his kind, male and female, along with a few children, as he observed the luscious jungle from high above on the observatory's skydeck. The occassional skycar would fly by, along with the daily STG Mantis gunship on patrol, but overall, it was silent but for the sounds of the birds and the animals below. The sky was a brilliant blue, with clouds dotting it.

He still wore his trademark white labcoat, but his weapons confiscated by customs, which he had understood. But his equipment hadn't been taken away; and inside was a data disk containing Maelon's data that Shepard had ordered him to obtain during their mission to rescue Maelon on Tuchanka. _Mere months ago. Hope Shepard alright. Good man. Glad he eventually convinced me. Or was it Miss Vael? _He missed his quarian assistant as well, but he knew by that point, he was getting alittle too sentimental. _Must not dwell on such things if I want to cure krogan._

Taking one final sniff of the air, he picked up his bag and was preparing to leave the skydeck, when he got a whiff of something. Inhaling and exhaling, he nodded, looking up, as if meeting a pair of eyes in the middle of nothing, "Ah, STG has tracked me down. Will have to better than cloaks however. Have dealt with master chief. Know cloak when I see it."

As expected, a hiss of static was heard, followed by a salarian in white combat armor appearing out of thin air, his vindicator battle rifle aimed at Mordin's chest, but now slightly lowering. All around him, he watched as what had seemed to be casual observers pulled out weapons and turned around, all aiming them at Mordin. As he turned to look at them, it turned every single one had been an STG agent. _Ah. Have been tracking me since I left Spaceport. But why? _

"Very well done professor," one familiar salarian voice noted as he too dropped his cloak, ordering his men to lower their weapons as he turned towards him with a grin, "You haven't changed one bit, Solus."

A smile creased Mordin's face as he nodded, inhaling once more, "Ah, thought I recognized your scent. Commander Rentola. Pleasant surprise. Did not expect to see you here. Small galaxy."

"And an even smaller STG," Rentola chuckled, shaking his head, "But seriously Mordin, I'm surprised to see you back on Sur'Kesh. You and Maelon vowed to never come back after what you did on Tuchanka. What changed? And where's Maelon? Wasn't he with you?"

"Maelon and I had falling out in disagreement. Carried out brutal experiments for Clan Weyrloc. Wanted to end him. Shepard...disagreed," Mordin explained hurriedly, "Suggested starting clinic on Omega. Can only assume he's still there."

"Wait, Shepard? He's here?" Rentola asked, surprised, "The report we got from HQ only mentioned you. I think we would have noticed a human."

"Not here. Imprisoned. On Earth. Believed you heard of Bahak Incident. If not, its the reason why," the professor stated, before eying his would-be captors, "STG does not carry out abductions. Very unsalarian. Wouldn't need me for interrogation, not salarian style, more left up to turians. Wouldn't need me for combat expertise, Captain Kirrahe more than capable. No, you need me for..." the realization hit him instantly, "Ah. Need me to work for you. Predictable. Should have seen it coming."

Rentola shrugged, "I don't need you, I just shoot stuff. Its Padok Wiks who needs you; you know, STG supreme commander? Kirrahe simply relayed the orders. You're needed at HQ, but apparently its for a very sensitive matter regarding the krogan. Can't be good."

_Must have gotten wind of attempts to cure genophage. Could be bad. Must not mention anything. Best to go with them. Could help, might not. _With a final exhale of breath, he nodded, "Very well. Will accompany you."

Rentola blinked, as if hit across the face, "Wait...that's it? You'll just come with us?"

"Yes, yes. Of course I will. No where else to go. Foolish to attempt escape," he declared, straightening his back, "Presume you have transport? Might as well get to it. Look forward to seeing STG site Delta again."

Rentola shook his head, "You're not going to Site Delta, Mordin. You're going to Site Alpha."

"You're going to the Special Tasks Group Headquarters."

**{Loading...}**

_December 30, 2185_

_1643 hours._

_Palace of the Republic, Armali, Lanecaa Continent, Thessia._

_Justicar Samara._

_I have done my duty. I have done all I can. The leaders of my people will not listen, and therefore I must find other ways of convincing them that the Reapers are indeed coming. _For Samara's words to have been rejected so suddenly and forcefully by her leaders had been surprising, as they had always listened to the wisdom of the Justicars, but apparently it would not be so today. _Politics has blinded them. They will not see the truth, so it must be force fed to them. It is the only way. I will not allow innocents to die because of our foolish leaders._

Samara continued to move down the large, eloquent corridors of the Palace of the Republic, a structure that had been built centuries ago by the ancient asari of the Period of Silence; a period of asari history that involved the ending of conflict, and a unification of the asari people, beginning with the construction of the Palace of Athame, which later on, upon the formation of the Republic and the fall of asari religion, would be renamed into Palace of the Republic. And here she walked; moving through crowds of moving asari as she made her way towards the exit, the many politicians or just normal civilians looking at her as she went past, awed by the justicar moving in their midst.

She ignored them on her way towards the exit, where her skycar awaited her. She had checked on Jack, and she had visited her daughters, but after that, she had headed straight for Thessia. And that had been where she had been mocked. By her own people. She remembered their words. _The Matriarchs of this Palace will not listen to the warnings of a feeble old woman who has been infected by common place propaganda. Leave us Justicar, before you words begin to infect us. _Samara had merely shook her head and quietly left, not wanting to incite conflict where it was not needed. _Conflict is forbidden in the Palace, even for a Justicar. _But that did not stop her from thinking about it.

She was about to reach the entrance, as she now stood in a large, close to golden, atrium. Colossal walls towered around her, along with marble staircases leading up to the many different tiers of the building, which were many. She had been about to reach the large, equally golden doors when she heard someone call out from behind her, causing her to turn around. What she saw took even her completely by surprise.

Another Justicar.

This asari wore the exact same uniform she wore, but without the added bits on her face. Her face showed she was in her later Matron years, not quite a Matriarch, but still had the wisdom, discipline and experience that came with being a member of the Justicar order. Her cheeks were smoother, and her skin lighter in shade, and her eyes were a deeper hazel in color. And she even moved with more grace than Samara, if it could be believed.

The justicar arrived at her side fairly quickly after completing her sprint, but looked barely fazed, as if so used to it that she couldn't even lose her breath anymore. She came before her, and bowed, and as she spoke, her tone was of a lighter, less forboding manner, and reminded her eerily of Jack, "Justicar. It has been a while since I have met or spoken to another of my order."

Samara returned the bow, "The feeling is mutual, sister. And what may this warrior of the code be named?"

She nodded, a smile on her lips, "Justicar Ramalya, a pleasure Justicar Samara."

Samara raised an eyebrow, "You know of me, but I do not know of you."

The justicar named Ramalya merely nodded, bobbing her head in the general direction of the many court room of the Palace, "I heard the meeting; I had been positioned outside, and overheard. Samara, you bring many fables and tales to Thessia, but offer no proof but your own wisdom and oath to tell the truth."

Samara nodded, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again, her expression as cold and emotionless as always. It had been her reputation, "I had no evidence to give, only my oath of truth. That should have been enough. We spend too much time bragging about our superiority, when we should be using it to defend the galaxy. But in the end, our superiority will mean nothing in the face of the Reapers."

"Well, you've got one believer here," Ramalya said with a firm nod to her fellow asari, "Not all of us are idiots. I believe you, Justicar."

Samara raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Even after I fail to provide evidence?"

Ramalya shook her head, crossing her arms with a frown, "The Justicars have known you a long time, Samara. You're by far the most experienced, and the most wise. You don't say things unless you firmly believe them, and you don't believe in nonsense. If you believe the Reapers are real, I'm with you. The Justicars are with you."

Samara nodded, a look of appreciation on her features as she eyed the door before her, weary of what was to come, "Your faith in me is not without wisdom or guidance, Justicar. The threat we face is one of horrifying proportions. I have fought their leader...Harbinger...in combat before. Not in the literal sense, but as he controlled his minions. His force...his mere presence...it is of a magnitude of evil never seen before. I cannot explain it, for it is something beyond imagination."

"You've almost got me scared," Ramalya said cockily, clearly one of the newer justicars, "But I see what you're talking about. I don't want to imagine what these Reapers would do to our beloved Thessia. Our home. The asari people need to be prepared, and I believe you need to prepare them."

"Not me, no," Samara declared, shaking her head as she faced a startled Ramalya, "That is a battle for someone else. My task is to warn others. The innocent must be protected, and not just those native to my world. The whole galaxy must know. I will start my spreading this news through asari space, and then I will move on to Council space, and eventually the Terminus. As much as it loathes me to declare it, Aria T'Loak must be warned as well."

"Then it's up to me to warn the people of Thessia," Ramalya informed her, motioning to the door, "A task I can accomplish, and I will not be lathargic about it. Time is of the essence, you'll have us believe."

Samara merely shook her head as he followed Ramalya out of the Palace.

"No," she stated, "Time is something we no longer have."

**{Loading...}**

_January 2, 2186_

_1230 hours._

_Living Quarters, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_Marcus Shepard._

His quarters were small, and pretty quiet overall. On the left of the entrance was a set of observation windows that dominated the left side, giving a large and beautiful view of the Fraser River down below, with the cityscape of Vancouver rising up around it; tall, pale white skyscrapers reaching up and into the sky, with skycars flying past and an alliance frigate hanging in low orbit. Down below, scores of human life moved around, oblivious to the world around them.

A large, one-person bed was located at the end of the room, with a small desk next to the windows and a bookcase to the left of that. Empty picture frames dominated the right wall, and a small kitchen area next to it. Overall, it was small, and it suited his basic needs.

He currently sat behind his desk, elbows ontop of the table and head in his hands, eyes glazing over the city around him. The human life that flowed through its streets, the solace found in the gentle flow of the river below, numerous ferries and boats moving along its length. This had been his position for his entire stay here, and he rarely found himself leaving it.

One month and four days. That's how long he had been stuck in this room, and there was no end in sight. One month since the Normandy SR-2 was impounded, taken to an unknown location, no word from Joker or EDI. One month since he had said goodbye to his crew. One month since he farewelled his remaining squad. One month since...

_God, I miss her. I can't seem to stop thinking about her. Just what is she up to up there? _Tali seemed to be the only thing on his mind during these times; he missed her so much it hurt, but knew that had it gone differently, she would be in here with him, and he could not accept that, no matter how much he yearned to be in her arms, and the wounds that came from the destruction of the Bahak System still stung him too much.

She was mostly likely safe on the Migrant Fleet now, with Shala and Kal and Madi and Meru. Probably getting the quarians ready for the Reaper assault. For their Arrival. He smiled at that thought; thinking just how far his Tali had come. How she had started as a simple pilgrim, scared, wounded and on the run, and had become a competent warrior, skilled engineer and his loving wife. He wondered what she must be doing; probably thinking of him, as he thought of her.

Damn it, why did things have to go this way? I wouldn't be trapped here if it weren't for the Alpha Relay. Times like these made him which he really were a God. So he could have saved those three hundred thousand from their deaths.

He heard the door open, and he didn't need to turn to see who it is. He had heard of Lieutenant James Vega during his battle against the Collectors not too long ago. He was a competent marine with a set head, who had lost his squad to a Collector attack on the human colony of Fehl Prime during their relentless abductions of their colonies last year, and had been forced to destroy a Collector warship to stop it escaping. He had never thought he'd meet the man, but apparently Anderson thought he'd be perfect for guarding Shepard, and he had been right. The man had reminded him of a slightly more competent and veteran version of Jenkins, in a way. And far more muscular.

"Sir," James spoke, moving into the room, straightening his posture and snapping a firm salute as soon as he stood inside, "Commander, Anderson sent me to check up on you."

He sighed, turning to face James as he stood in the frame of the doorway, not returning the salute. The Alliance Court had seen fit to strip him off his rank as well, so he wasn't even military anymore. Commander Shepard wasn't a Commander. He took a bit to examine James' form again. The man had brownish/black hair that was almost formed in a mohawk on the back of his head, but not quite, and was lacking enough to be close to baldness. He wore a white singlet with his dogtags hanging out infront of him, unafraid to put his muscles on display. His jawline was firmer than even Kaidan's, and he had a look in his eyes that immediately told you he was a soldier to the core.

"I told you to stop calling me that," Marcus almost growled, but managed to work the acid out of his tone, "I'm not a Commander anymore. I don't salute you, you definitely don't salute me."

"Force of habit sir...I mean...Shepard. Besides, I don't care what Garrong says," James waved a dismissive hand, smiling, "You're still the Commander to me and most of the marines stationed here. Still, if you want me to stop, I will."

"Stop. Please," Marcus asked and James nodded, dropping his salute and relaxing his stance, "Now, just what does Anderson want to know?"

"Well...have you moved to go to the bathroom?"

That coaxed a chuckle out of Marcus, and he let the smirk melt from his face, simply shaking his head, "Don't be a smartass, Vega. Doesn't work well with you. Besides, Anderson will get the same update he got last time. I'm just sitting here, just looking out the window, just waiting. So the next time he asks for an update, I'll still be just sitting here, still just looking out the window, and still just waiting."

James sighed, shaking his head, "You can't just sit there all the time Shepard. You got to stay fit. Men like us can't afford to get lazy."

"I'm a soldier Vega. A man of action," Marcus told him, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his basic shirt, "A man of action doesn't take being locked up in a room 24/7, for a month, doing nothing, lightly. I crave for a weapon, and crave for an enemy to take down. Like the Reapers. Anderson shouldn't be surprised I'm just sitting here. With nothing to do, I can only think."

"About what?" James asked, but realizing how blunt the question sounded, quickly amended, "Well, I mean, if I may ask?"

"Don't be scared Vega. I don't bite," he laughed, exhaling as he simply stared out blankly across the river, seemingly talking to himself as he spoke again, "I think about my squad; what they're doing out there. I think about my crew, and just what I got them into. I think of Harbinger, and when he'll arrive, and when I'll know about it. I think of..." he trailed off, not expecting James to know what he was talking about, "...people I care about." _Damn their no contact policy. Just the sound of her voice, a giggle, a smile or just the sight of her mask would alleviate my concerns. Let me know she's out there, thinking about me. I didn't think it'd hurt this much. And its only been a month._

"Yeah, I hear you," James replied, sighing heavily, "Hell, we all have concerns like that. But you can't dwell on 'em, Shepard. Got to keep active. No point you rotting away in here when you haven't gotten to rub the Alliance's faces in it yet. Or the Council's."

Marcus raised an eyebrow at him, "Rub their faces in what?"

"The Reapers. You know, when they turn up. And me and Anderson know they will. And Hackett. And all those willing to listen. They'll come, and you'll be able to rub their faces in it."

He didn't laugh. He didn't reciprocate the joke. He didn't smile, frown or scold him. He merely looked out the window blankly, the pain in his heart and mind twisting him to the point of insanity, where the loneliness almost tore him apart. Of course, if the Reapers could hurry up and arrive, he'd have something to focus on so he could ignore it. But he would find no such solace here. No, all he had was his thoughts. He was as vulnerable as ever to their onslaught. His thoughts were grim, and hinted at the darkness that was converging on them.

He sighed, "That's if they're alive when this is all over. If I'm alive. Or any of us are alive."

He thought of Tali, and this time instead of focusing on her absence, focused on the future he planned for them; a house, on her homeworld, with a clear view of the sea. He imagined himself sitting on the porch, arm wrapped around his suitless wife, with the sun going down as they quietly lay in each others embrace. He solidified it. Memorized it. Kept it stored away as thoughts for later.

It would be his motivation.

It would be his way to fight through the vortex of survival that would be the Reaper apocalypse.

**{Loading...}**

_February 7, 2186_

_1513 hours._

_The Arena, Liveship Rayya, Migrant Fleet, Sheol System, Hades Nexus Cluster._

_Captain Tali'Shepard vas Machina, Commander Igra'Trasp vas Machina, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib Qwib, Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, Lieutenant General Kal'Reegar vas Machina, Major Madi'Reegar vas Machina, Chief Medical Officer Elan'Nara vas Rayya, Navigator Veetor'Nara vas Rayya, Captain Qet'Danna vas Rayya, Engineer Meru'Zorah vas Rayya._

She kept as straight a posture as she could, but standing was really becoming a problem for her. She had been doing alot of it lately, and hated it. For two straight months, non-stop, that's all she had done. Stand, issue commands, sleep. Stand, issue commands, socialize, sleep. Stand, issue commands, sleep. A continous cycle, and it really began to grate on her. She hated every second of it, and still she kept going. Because a special someone out there was depending on her; had put his trust in her.

She'd damn herself to hell before she ever betrayed that man. The man she loved so much and missed equally so that it was sending her insane. _I'm not even allowed to visit him. Two months of not even being able to talk to him, let alone see him. I'm constantly lonely, and finding sleep is a bigger battle than commanding a warship._

She stood in the middle of the Arena, almost standing exactly where she had during her trial so many months ago; to think it had only been last year. _I stood in this exact position, the Admirals passing judgment on me, my father dead, and my future husband by my side, defending me. And now I stand here, holding his child, now in command of my own ship. _Her promotion had been a recent development, and the Machina was one of the newest additions to the Migrant Fleet; a destroyer of human design, and not even that old; only ten years off the production line. It had a formidable armament, and had enough speed to even match the Normandy. She was a good ship, with a competent crew, and Tali was proud to be her captain. Kal and Madi were in charge of the marine detail on the vessel, and she was glad to have friends by her side. But the ship wasn't the Normandy. And it would never be home. And not for Junior either.

She looked downwards, hands still clasped behind her back as she saw the slight bulge on the belly of her suit. She was two months pregnant with Marcus' child, and was captaining a ship whilst doing it, while also worrying excessively about the father. And her consumption of nutrient paste had been phenomenal, almost to the point where she had selfishly ordered more food supplies brought to her ship. But she knew it was because of the pregnancy, and because of that, it was forgiven. Besides, it was the talk of the Fleet. _How did she manage it? Is that Marcus' child, or another quarian's? How is that even possible? Will it be ugly? Will she survive the birthing? _So many questions, and Tali had only ignored them all. _I miss Marcus, but I will protect this child and nurture it. At least that'll distract me from the pain of his absence...can't imagine what he's going through. Keelah, he doesn't even know that he has a son/daughter being formed in my belly..._

Turning away from her stomach, she faced her XO, Igra of Clan Trasp. When Tali had first been introduced the woman, her impression hadn't been all that great. She was cocky, prone to making fast decisions and wasn't very well known for following orders. But she did have an impressive military record; six successful marine ops, and she had a confirmed 152 geth kill tally, five of them being geth primes, to her immense disbelief. Even killed a Colossus, if rumors could be believed. But that was the problem with Igra; she was a marine to the bone, and had little to no experience on how to command a warship, and wasn't used to following orders. Which is why her sudden change from Marine Corps to Navy, and her jump to Commander, and been a hasty choice on the Admiralty Board's part, but necessary.

Igra had grown on her though. She was smart, heavily sarcastic, and good to talk to. She wore the Indigo veil of her clan, and her marital status was single; she hadn't married, or had many relationships. The idea of children annoyed her, she wasn't afraid to overexaggerate her skills as an officer, and overall, she was quite cheeky. And by cheeky, she meant exactly that.

Tali had heard the rumors that Igra was...not of the usual sexual preference. To be blatant about it, she was sexually attracted to her own gender, not men. She had been approached by multiple suitors, all of which she rejected, but it had been rumored that on her pilgrim, she had gone to a brothel and had lay with a turian whore. Igra never confirmed those rumors, but she wasn't afraid to admit to being of that attraction area.

Just yesterday Tali had been talking to Igra while on her way to her quarters. Before entering her quarters, Igra had slapped Tali on her buttocks, causing her to spin around with a blush but also a glare. After telling her that she was married, Igra had said 'I know that, sweetcheeks. But that doesn't stop me from complimenting a beautiful body when I see one. You're sexy, and that man's lucky. Besides, I wasn't being serious. Lighten up' before leaving. Even now, she found herself anxious of the space between them.

Looking away from Igra, she saw everyone else was here. Kal. Madi. Veetor. Elan. Meru. And all the admirals. She had received the call this morning; she had been summoned by the Admiralty Board to the Rayya. Today was the day the new Admiral was announced, and Tali was surprised that they had summoned her to speak with them that day. Shouldn't they announce the Admiral first? But in the end, it didn't matter to Tali. She just didn't care.

Once the meeting was called to order by Gerrel, he then turned to her, "Captain Shepard of the Machina, please stand forward with your XO."

Tali nodded, moving up to stand infront of the podium, Igra at her side. The XO gave her a nod, arms crossed and leaning on her hip as she turned to the Admiralty Board. Tali almost snickered as Daro noticed Igra's leering look, followed by the latter's shake of the head and a wink, which obviously caused said admiral to silently fume. Getting her mirth under control, she assumed a professional pose, and faced Admiral Gerrel.

"I have been summoned Admiral Gerrel, although for what I cannot acertain," Tali declared, looking at all four of the admirals, "I believed that the vote for the new admiral was being decided today."

The admirals looked at each other, Daro obviously shifting uncomfortably, with Shala only looking at Tali, and Koris shifting hesitantly. Gerrel seemed to only radiate confidence as he spoke, "We are, Captain. The votes have come in, and the people have decided. The new Chief of the Admiralty Board will now approach the podium."

Silence followed, and all eyes looked at Tali. She turned to look through the audience stands to see if the new admiral would step forward, but noone did. Where was he? Or she? Was the new admiral?

"What are you waiting for, Tali?" Gerrel asked finally, and her eyes locked onto him, realizing in an instant as her eyes widened in shock, "Step forward, Admiral."

Her professional posture almost slumped, but she maintained it in the face of her shock. She couldn't believe it; she...she was the new Admiral? Not only that, but the new _chief _of the Admiralty? _The entire Migrant Fleet...its fate, its safety, literally rests in my hand...Gerrel, Xen, Raan, Koris...all of them...under my command..._The mere idea was almost too much for her to take, but she couldn't keep them waiting. She would look weak.

She took her first hesitant step off of the podium, followed by a second, and then a third. Her fourth took her on a journey to the stands where the Admirals stood. Gerrel, no longer Chief Regent of the Board, retreated to his old position of standing on the forward stand in the middle, with Koris next to him, and Xen and Raan behind him. Behind them stood a single, individual stand; one that stood high above all of them; and that was her place. _This is too much...an entire people...17 million of my people...their lives are in my hands..._

She almost couldn't do it. She almost fell apart, right then and there. But then she remembered Marcus. The burdens he had to carry. Trillions of lives resting on his shoulders, and all he asked was for his wife to lift some of the weight off of him. _A mere 17 million is nothing compared to the trillions out there...he is my husband, and I must carry this burden with him. But this is my entire people..._

Her steps became longer strides, more confident, full of determination, precision and dedication. When she finally came to stand on the high podium, she found herself standing before an entire audience, and she was their focus. Their leader. She answered only to the Conclave; apart from that, she ruled. She was their military figurehead. Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina, the leader of the quarian race.

_I will not fail you, Marcus. I love you, but now our child needs me. My people need me. The galaxy needs me. _

_I will make you proud of me._

Her posture straightened, hands clasping behind her back and eyes searching the audience, watching as Igra came to sit in the audience once more. Her lips were set in a firm line, and if anyone could see her eyes, they'd only see cold. A cold Marcus had shown her on the day he told her to leave him. It was the same cold she'd use today. She would be everything the quarian race needed her to be. She watched as Shala, Han, Daro and Zaal all saluted to her, followed by the entire audience as they all stood up, waiting for her speech.

"We are a proud people; never forget that, my fellow quarians. It does not matter what the galaxy thinks of us; in the end, they are inconsequential. What truly matters is that we are a family; a community, bonded and strong against all of those who oppose us. We may not have the technology, or the weaponry, but we have the spirit. One man, my husband, told me that spirit is all that's needed to win a war. If one thousand men believe they can win, they will defeat an army 20 times their size. Loyalty, Dedication, Spirit. Three words we quarians live by in our everyday lives. We are not weak. We are not pathetic. We are not suit-rats, and we are not meek. We are strong. The quarian people did not got quietly into the night when the geth took our home from us, we did not die. We survived. We pesevered. And we will do the same again. Under my command, our Fleet will survive. And we will fight the oncoming darkness. The threat that looms on us all. And when the Reapers come, the races of the galaxy will look to the quarians, look to the Migrant Fleet, and say that we saved them. That we had a part in this galaxy's salvation. That we destroyed an enemy that only exists in nightmares. That we were strong. As your Admiral, I will lead our people to victory! TO VICTORY! KEELAH SE'LAI!" Her voice rose in crescendo, and by the end, she was almost screaming.

Every quarian in the room shouted in return, and Shala could only watch on in awe, while Gerrel joined the ruckus. Koris was flabbergasted, and Daro, as always, was largely unimpressed. It mattered nill. They answered to her now, and her alone.

Tali'Shepard vas Machina would lead them to victory alright.

But not a victory behind the Perseus Veil.

But a victory against an enemy that converged on them even now.

**{Loading...}**

_February 8, 2186_

_0940 hours._

_Clean Room, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Migrant Fleet, Sheol System, Hades Nexus Cluster._

_Lieutenant General Kal'Reegar vas Machina, Major Madi'Reegar vas Machina._

Both of them just lay there, hands laced together. They lay naked under the sheets, having just had a vigorous session of love-making. The day had been long and full of work, and both of them were still awed by Tali's speech the other day. They were honored to be serving under the command of the Chief of the Admiralty Board, and especially one they knew as a friend. Tali had even, despite her sadness, attended their wedding not long after the Bahak Incident. They had even coaxed a chuckle out of her.

The room was quiet but for the sounds of their light breathing. Neither of them spoke, merely looking up at the ceiling, hands looping and just relishing the feel of each others' skin. It wouldn't be long before they had to climb back into their suits, but they could at least enjoy this moment alittle longer. They tried to only think of each other, but memories of Tali's speech continued to lead them both to thoughts of the Reapers. And that ruined the moment.

Fear. It gripped them both. They had no idea what to expect when they finally arrived. When they came to begin a campaign of galactic genocide. The very thought shook him to the bone, and he felt Madi shiver next to him, digging her head deeper under the crook of his neck, and he only tightened his grip around her. Neither of them wanted to die, but they both knew it was a strong possibility when it came to a war of this magnitude. They both accepted what could happen. They came to terms with it. Or so they had thought.

Finally, he spoke, "Madi, I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But we can't keep doing this."

Madi's response was muffled, and only he could hear the words, "I'm not scared, I'm terrified. We both saw what Harbinger was back on that asteroid, and we both saw those two Reapers before entering the relay. They were gigantic, and their words seemed to speak to my very soul. How do we fight thousands of those things, let alone one? What hope do we have of surviving that?"

Kal looked down at her, sighing heavily as he stroked her reddish hair, "I'll be honest with you Madi; our survivability odds are pretty low. I'm not even sure we'll survive this war. One of us might die, both of us might die. That's war. All we can really do is count the days we have left until then."

He felt her warm lips on his exposed neck, before she pulled back, "Don't say that. The thought of losing you torments me at night, I don't need it from you. What I need to know is that we'll survive this damn war. That we won't let the Reapers kill us. That we'll go back to Rannoch, build a house and have children. I've always wanted a child, a son, a daughter, of my own. But it won't be worth it if you're not there."

There was a sadness in her eyes, and it hurt him to see it, but there wasn't much to stop it except to lie to her, and he wasn't going to do that. Not to her, "I dream the same for us, Madi. A life without the burdens of the marines or the Reapers or the Geth to worry about. Its a life I've been personally fighting for. But its about time we acknowledge the possibility that we might not survive to get there. So, for now, we must merely see it as a dream, and make no promises to each other. I will fight my hardest to see you on the other side, but I've come to terms with the fact that I might die. That I might lose you. I still love you, I always will, but I know fate when I see it. Now we must only concentrate on the battle ahead of us, the fight that is coming. That is where we are needed."

She looked him in the eyes, nodding slightly as she brought her forehead to lean against his, "You're right, and I will always love you too. For now, let us concentrate on this moment," she leaned in, locking her lips with his briefly, before breaking off slightly, "Let us continue making some memories. Moments to remember."

He nodded, and he brought his mouth to hers, letting them mold together. Quickly, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over, continuing the kiss.

They would create as many happy memories as they possibly could.

**{Loading...}**

_February 11, 2186_

_1734 hours._

_Class Room 6C, Ascension Program School Block, Jon Grissom Academy, Vetus System, Petra Nebula._

_Subject Zero Jack, Senior Program Coordinator Kahlee Sanders._

Jon Grissom Academy; home to every human child or adult born with biotic gifts, where they trained to use their powers for the greater good, whilst others came here as a early preparation for life in the military. It was founded in the name of Rear Admiral Jon Grissom, who had been one of the first human to commit to deep space exploration after the discovery for the Mars Archives and the mass relays. Now the Academy sat in orbit over Elysium; one of humanity's richest colonies.

And here she stood, in an Alliance facility, not Cerberus...doing what exactly? Become a student? Like she needed to learn to harness her abilities...Samara had done enough of that...

_They offered me a place here after I recovered back on the Citadel. They offered to let me teach her. To be a teacher. To train them. The Alliance recruited me...but why? Fucksake, I don't even know why I'm here._

She had been forced to put a jacket on before reaching the station, Kahlee telling her that the children here did not need to see her almost totally naked. Jack had begrudingly listened, and had also donned a pair of shades, before they landed and she picked up her bags. She couldn't say she missed the Normandy, but it definitely seemed more like home than this shithole..._why am I even fucking here? I should just leave._

They eventually arrived in one of the classrooms, where her entire 'intended' class was assembled, their ex-teacher, Rebecca Deck, standing beside them. Kahlee had simply stood back and watched as she looked over them, looking at their faces. Most of them looked to be teenagers, with a few looking to be in their 20's. _They want me to teach these kids? What part of my dossier said 'works well with children?' I'm a fucking psychotic biotic bitch, not a goody-good teacher. I don't teach at all; I just blow shit up._

She had constantly asked herself why she was even here. As they left the Citadel, as they arrived at Elysium, and as they boarded the station; every inch of the way, she had questioned why she was even here. _I could be hunting Cerberus down. Find the Illusive Man and give him a face full of my fist. I'd tear him apart, followed by the rest of his fucking organization. That's what I do. I kill. I'm a murderer. I was a convict for a reason. And now the Alliance wants __**me**__ to teach a bunch of kids how to use their biotics. What a joke._

It was then that what Samara said came to her mind. The asari justicar had visited her bedside when she was still stuck in Huerta, and it was from her that she learned of the Bahak Incident, and Shepard being arrested; the Normandy impounded, and the crew split. _Bloody boy scout, always playing the good guy. _But Samara also told her that she had to be stronger than she was now; she had to be better. She had to break free of the bonds of the prison of existence she had created for herself, and choose a better life. Make a difference.

In the end, that's probably why Jack did accept the invitation to begin with. To follow Samara's wisdom. Choose a better life. She could put her insanely powerful abilities to better use in teaching other kids how to harness theirs. She would learn what leadership tasted like. _But that isn't fucking me. Why should I..._The Reapers. Samara had said that Shepard wanted all of them to find their own ways of preparing the galaxy for the incoming threat, and Jack knew that recruiting as many biotics, human biotics, as possible would help the war effort. This would be her way of helping.

She once again evaluated the group of students before her, smoothing a hand over her hairless scalp. She puckered her plump lips, and spoke, trying to keep the acid out of her tone, "So, you're the kids I'm going to teach?"

"They are ma'am," Rebecca spoke, "All yours. And what is your name?"

Jack looked at her, glaring at her. _I hate it when people do that. _She quickly wiped the glare from her face, and spoke, although her words were so reluctant that she may as well have been forcing herself to breathe, "Jack. Just Jack."

"Jack?" Rebecca repeated unsmiling, but she could see and hear the other students sniggering to each other, "Isn't that a boy's name?"

_I hate it when people __**ask **__that, _"Maybe I don't care. Maybe, as far as I'm concerned, its a unisex name. Now, if we're done with the introductions, can we get to the training?" she glared at the students, who all seemed to melt under her gaze. Her glare turned into a smirk, liking the fear she struck into them. _They will respect me. _"I'm ready to bash some heads together, see how you all tick."

"There will be time for that later, Jack," Kahlee assured her, motioning towards the exit, "Would you not like to be shown to your quarters?"

Jack rolled her eyes, nodding before turning back to the students and giving them an evil wink, which caused them to turn away as Rebecca herded them away. Jack turned back to the door just as Kahlee opened, but gave them her parting words, "See you later, you little shits."

Upon hearing the door close behind her, Jack moved down the corridor towards the living quarters, with Kahlee at her side, who seemed to be giving her annoyed looks. Sighing exasperatedly, Jack turned to give her an earful, but Kahlee had already turned away, speaking, "We're going to have to set some ground rules, Jack, and first of them will be no cussing. No curse words around the children. We expect a manner of professionalism here, and you will abide by it."

"Could luck with stopping me," Jack grinned, "Cursing is my style, and old habits die hard, bitch. Might as well get used to it."

Kahlee only smiled in return, "Oh, we'll see Jack. We shall see."

Jack only shot her a withering glare before turning back, moving through another door and continuing their progress to her quarters. She exhaled once more, closing her eyes. _I'm going to hate it here. But for some reason, I feel like I'm going to like it too._

It was the same feeling she had when she joined the Normandy.

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_March 5, 2186_

_1501 hours._

_Throne Room, Urdnot Camp, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_Chieftain Urdnot Wrex, Chieftain's Adjutant Urdnot Wreav._

Wrex roared, long and loud, and his voice carried through the entire camp, raining silence down on it from above. It echoed off stone, and walls and dirt, silencing all with its call. Krogan turned around, males and females, and the varren's barking ceased. Heads turned, roaring stopped, and all eyes landed on him as he stood upon his throne, looking down on all of them with a blood red gaze. He grinned a large smile, one that filled his halls with promises of bloodshed and combat.

"Brothers and sisters!" Wrex boomed, his voice once again echoing through his halls and ringing in the ears of the thousands upon thousands of krogan assembled before him, "Today is the day I inform you of a great awakening! The galaxy needs us once again, but this time, we will fight of our own accord, not because they want us to! Today we fight, not for them, but for our own survival! A darkness converges on Tuchanka, and Kalros demands we answer it with the light of our guns!"

Wreav mumbled something under his breath, but a sharp glare from Wrex silenced him in an instant. _Gutless worm. _He turned back to the crowd before him, "We fought the rachni and we fought the turians! The galaxy believed them to be powerful foes, but we stomped them into the dirt! We destroyed the rachni! We almost annihilated the turians! But now, we face the greatest, and most worthy, enemy of them all! The Reapers are coming! They bring with them armies of their mechanical servants, and their very body stands taller than the biggest dreadnought! Were our ancestors still alive today, they would spit on them, and ground them into dust with their warships! But they do not! No, today we will prepare to secure our future! To show those almighty, arrogant pyjaks just what the krogan can do!"

"Lies! All of it!" one large krogan declared from the middle of the front of the crowd, and Wrex's eyes landed on him immediately, "You're nothing but an alien appeaser! You follow the words of a lunatic! The Reapers do not exist! They are a myth fabricated by Arterius! We will find no glory! And even if they did exist, the genophage still afflicts us! We could not hope to replenish our numbers fast enough to go to war! What you suggest is folly, and that's only if they exist! Which they do not!"

_Another narrow-minded fool. _"It is varren like you who have kept our people tied to this planet for centuries. This...wasteland. Kalros would have us go higher up the ladder, but you would rather chop it down to stop us from reaching the top. Fools like you use the genophage as a progaganda tool and an excuse to stick to our pathetic ways! This is a chance to redeem ourselves!"

"Let these 'Reapers' wipe us out!" the krogan called, gathering a few roars of support, but not many, "The genophage is already doing that already. And you will only quicken it."

"As will the Reapers pyjak," Wrex roared, "The Reapers will descend upon our home, and they will slaughter us. Better to fight in the promise of a future than to die meekly."

"My clan will hear no more of this nonsense," the krogan bellowed, "Clan Ojaa will have no part in this folly."

_Ah, Chieftain Ojaa Talmoud. A bloody weakling if there ever was one. _Wrex was preparing to unlatch his claymore to fight him, but noticed that the crowd seemed to be parting slightly as another, familiar krogan form headed towards Talmoud.

Wrex could only smirk.

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_March 5, 2186_

_1506 hours._

_Lower Camp, Urdnot Camp, Hagalok City Ruins, Que'k Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_Lord Companier Urdnot Grunt._

He converged on Chieftain Talmoud, blood rushing in his veins as his adrenaline rush went wild.

_I shall silence this welp!_

He sprinted through the crowd, armed with nothing but his own body. As Lord Companier, having been promoted to commanding officer of the finest krogan commando unit, Aralakh Company, he had been posted to the side of the camp, his camp on station as a bodyguard detachment to quiet any quarrelers. And he had found one.

And he ordered his company to stay put while he did this himself. They doubted his leadership, his strength, and now he would prove it to them.

Shoving the last Ojaa soldier aside, Grunt rushed forward and tackled the Chieftain to the ground with a cascading war cry. Talmoud cried out in shock as his head hit the stone floor, but he quickly recovered, clamping his jaw shut over Grunt's arm. The krogan supersoldier growled in pain, but he ignored it, sending a foot slamming into Talmoud's shin, causing him to let go as he assessed the new area. Pulling his arm free, Grunt watched as his regeneration kicked in almost immediately, his supersoldier like abilities being that of the ancient krogan; the blood of his ancestors ran through his veins and within no time, his arm had healed, as if no bite mark had existed.

Clan Ojaa soldiers converged on him, but the Chieftain waved them off, wanting to kill Grunt himself. The krogan merely watched, some crying out support for Talmoud, while others for Grunt. Wrex crouched near his throne, watching the battle unfold with a toothy grin.

Talmoud eyed his healed wounds, sneering at Grunt, "You are unnatural, welp. You have the abilities of a freak."

Grunt gave a throaty chuckle in response, "You're body will be just as freakish when I'm done pissing on it," his stomach growled, "Maybe I'll shit on it, too. My varren stew seems to have finished digesting."

Talmoud merely growled and charged forward, attempting to tackle Grunt. The krogan merely strafed to the left, and held his hand out, clasping onto Talmoud's crest and yanking upwards, using the chieftain's momentum to thrust him upwards and onto the ground. Grunt sent a powerful punch flying into his midsection, which would have disemboweled a human, but merely winded Talmoud; the rough skin of krogan much to resilient to be burst in such a way. Grunt moved to offer a second blow, but Talmoud rolled out of the way, jumping to his feet.

He turned to face Grunt, but the krogan was already on him, snarling. His head slammed into Talmoud's, followed by Grunt offering a powerful kick to his shin, snapping it as Talmoud cried out and fell backwards, "My bloodline is distilled from Kredak..." Grunt chanted as he moved forward, fist slamming into Talmoud's face, a tooth flying out, followed by orange blood, followed by a second blow to one of his eyes, which caused it to slam shut in response.

"Moro...!"

Grunt straddled him, Talmoud unable to escape as Grunt once again grabbed his head and slammed it against his, stunning him. Using the thumbs of his fingers, he pressed them into Talmoud's eye sockets, and he screamed out in agony as orange blood oozed from the sockets.

"Shiagur...!"

He removed his thumbs, and orange blood spat out, Talmoud screaming like a wounded animal and hands feeling all over his face, no longer able to see due to his burst eye sockets. Grunt got off of him, looking down at the pitiful creature before kicking him in his quad, turning his pained screams into choked cries of agony, blood never ceasing to flow from where his eyes once were.

"Shepard," Grunt finished, "My blood did not come from him, but he did offer me his wisdom. He is the greatest battlemaster of all. Be lucky that he did not fight you. Or his mate. They would have done alot worse to you."

"Go...to hell...pyjak!" Talmoud screamed, "I will...end you...men, kill...him!"

Rolling his eyes, Talmoud's men merely watched as Grunt not only grabbed the chieftain's head, but with a few twists and a pull, _ripped it clean _from his spine, orange blood gushing everywhere in a thick geyser. Grunt practically swam in it a he arose from the dead chieftain's corpse, body going limp with the severance of his head. Mouth twitching slightly, it wasn't long before the head died as well, blood leaking from where it once connected with the neck, a piece of spine hanging from the back. Bathing in the chieftain's essence, he turned to the startled krogan, and held the chieftain's head up eye, before tossing it, letting it roll to their feet. So all could hear him, Grunt bellowed, his own voice carrying across the camp.

"_**DOES ANYONE ELSE OPPOSE URDNOT WREX'S PLAN!?"**_ he bellowed, and he stood there, the blood dripping off of his armor, making him stink of a dead corpse. Varren scurried over to Talmoud's dead corpse and began feeding on it, with Grunt having to growl at another that was trying to lap at the blood on his armor. Turning back, he still heard no answer, and the Ojaa clan soldiers remained silent. Grunt merely nodded, turning to Wrex, a grin on his face.

"Continue, Chieftain."

With that Grunt walked off, armor stained orange.

All he heard was Wrex's echoing laughter, and the krogan supersoldier smiled.

From the day forward, Aralakh Company never questioned his orders again.

**{Loading...}**

_May 28, 2186_

_1209 hours._

_Operation Command, Blue Suns Corporation Headquarters, Thun, Zorya._

_Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, First Lieutenant Jentha Renmark._

"Jentha, where the bloody hell have you been?"

Zaeed Massani, most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy and co-founder of the Blue Suns, strode into the room, wearing his custom-made Blue Suns armor, minus the helmet, allowing everyone to see the numerous scars he had accumilated on his face; including the two gunshot scars on his forehead. It showed the mercenaries how strong he was, and created the spectulation that he was 'immortal.' Let the buggers believe what they want to believe, if they respected and/or feared him, it was good enough for him.

And with Vido Santiago dead, the Blue Suns were his to command. The entire corp. And he was leading them well.

Jentha turned towards him, also clad in her Blue Suns armor, with a Revenant LMG on her back and her helmet ontop of the debriefing table, where a hologram of the galaxy was currently represented, with numerous red dots representing enemy clients and mercenary company bases, and the green dots representing Blue Suns bases. She was his second-in-command, but wouldn't be if she hadn't decided to quit on Tarak's assault on Archangel at the last minute. Otherwise, Shepard might have killed her by now. Or Zaeed himself.

She was human, and quite attractive by those standards, but for a mercenary, she was a bit soft. She had raven black hair that seem to fall down around around her face and stopped near her neck. She lacked a fringe, and that was made up for my her large nose. She smooth, round cheeks, darkish skin, and and hazel eyes. Her lips were small but kissable, and her breasts were ample; not massive balloons like Miranda's, but not tiny like Jack's. Standing beside her was one of his batarian commanders, followed by another one, who was turian. All of them turned to Zaeed upon his entrance.

Jentha shook her head, bracing against the table with her arms, "Rallying your troops for you sir. Apparently they weren't too keen on joining their leader's murderer, but after seeing what you did to the Collectors and the Shadow Broker, they were all pretty quick to sign up."

Zaeed nodded, leaning against the table equally, throwing his datapad ontop of its surface, all their attention landing on it. _Not that I actually killed the Shadow Broker. But my men don't need to know that. Bastards don't even know that I had nothing to do with that little attack. _He pointed at the datapad, a frown on his face, "You won't believe who I fucking found. The little cunt."

The batarian crossed his arms, coughing, "Who? Must be a bloody idiot if he's got you all riled up."

"Thanks, I needed that you bloody ass-kissing blink," Zaeed replied, before picking it up and throwing it in his face, "Who the fuck do you think it is? My fairy godmother? There's only one motherfucking bastard I want gone from this galaxy the most. And before you guess, no, its not Vido."

"I still don't..."

"Darner Vosque, Marath," Jentha answered for him, turning to the batarian in question, "Darner Vosque is the one who's pissed him off," she turned back to Zaeed however, a frown of confusion on her face, "But I thought you two made nice after he handed the Suns over to you. He's incharge of the Citadel division."

"Yes, but that goddam creature is now a treacherous rodent," Zaeed slammed his fist into the table, "I don't know how the little cunt did it, but he's managed to rally his entire division to his cause and now they've defected. They work for Vosque now, who in turn is now going back to what we did before; raiding C-Sec transports. Bloody fuckwit is tearing the entire system down for his won selfish desire, the scumbag. And if it weren't any worse, it would seem he's looking to gain Aria's favor. Last we need is that bitch controlling _my _organization."

He looked around the room to see the reactions. Marath held the same dumb expression of surprise he always gave when he learned new, seemingly obvious, information, Jentha looked to be pensive, and the turian, Palisus, merely shook his head as he spoke, "Then what do you propose we do, boss? Mercs are mercs. We've always fought for money, and we haven't had much of a reason not to fight for money before you came here and told us about the damn cataclysm. Can't blame Vosque for not believing in it."

Zaeed eyed him with his eyes, but shook his head, "Doesn't change a goddam thing. He's still a traitor, and I want him removed. So much so that I might just do it myself."

All eyes landed on him in an instant, but Jentha was the first to speak, "Sir, Vosque has the entire Citadel division on his side. That's at least a regiment of troops."

"That I will soon have back on my side once I have that fucker's head," Zaeed cursed, "I'll fly to the Citadel and I will find that little bastard and make sure he knows who he fucked with. Then I shall return with his head, and maybe I'll put one of you in command of the division he failed to lead."

There was silence as they all thought about this and Zaeed quickly turned to leave the room, "I'm leaving. First transport I can find to take me to the Citadel. Vosque better pray he has a change of heart before I get there, and even then, that'll only win him a quicker death."

"Wait sir," Jentha called out, and he turned to her, who was now running up to her, her helmet now placed firmly on her head and clicking into place, "If you're going, I'm coming with you. You can't take Vosque all by yourself."

He rolled his eyes, "And just who is going to command this entire goddam place? Not Marath, for sure."

"Palisus," she told him, "He's a turian. Leadership and military comraderie are in his blood and training. Leaving him in command is preferable while I come with you. I'll bring a company of our veteran troopers as well. We'll need the extra firepower."

"Whatever you say woman," he growled, turning to Pelisus, "You're in command while we're gone. Don't betray me, or I'll show you Vosque's head before decapitating yours, got it?"

Pelisus nodded, "Got it, boss."

Zaeed turned away, moving down the corridor, signalling Jentha to follow him.

Vosque better say his prayers tonight.

**{Loading...}**

_March 11, 2186_

_1433 hours._

_Cockpit, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Plantia Shipyard orbitting Earth, Sol System._

_Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor._

"I don't know what you're talking about, Specialist Traynor," Joker jested secretly, keeping his mirth a secret from the alliance tech, "As far I know, EDI is a simple VI. She doesn't have the intelligence to be anything but."

He had many conversations like this, but only recently with Comms. Specialist Samantha Traynor. She was a new addition to the retrofit crew in charge of 'renovating' the Normandy, to bring it into 'alliance regs.' If you asked Joker, he'd tell you that they were simply ruining the ship, but if you asked any alliance greenhorn, he'd say the ship was being removed of the stench of 'those terrorist scum.' Aka, Cerberus. The only thing Joker could really hate on though was the new door they'd installed in the cockpit, making it impossible to see into it now from the flight deck; and even that was getting an overhaul. He hadn't seen much of it, much what he did, he didn't like.

Then there was Samantha Traynor. Now her he liked. Most of the retrofit crew had been your typical alliance glum face; didn't talk much unless forced to, and worked until their bones were brittle enough to be diagnosed as Vrolik's. Samantha did the same, but she was far more socially...awkward, then socially inept. She didn't take conversations about her personal life too well, which reminded him some what of Tali, and she seemed jittery. However, he couldn't deny that she was attractive. _Very _attractive. She wore standard issue Alliance blue and white, along with the red stripe of the tech division, and she had long, flowing black hair that curled around her head and was tucked neatly behind her ears. She had smooth round cheeks that affirmed her dark-skin color, hazel-green eyes, and firm, but not puckered, pink lips. Her breasts were large, but not Miranda's large, and she didn't really have any curves worth of note, but she definitely fit into his realm of sexy. Not that she would think of him that way; she had made it quite clear to everyone else that she was interested in her own gender only. _Why is it the hottest are always the ones you can't touch?_

Samantha crossed her arms, shaking her head with a displeased frown and tucked her datapad under her arm, giving him a stern gaze, "I've checked her processing controls. The power draw from the systems...no 'simple VI' requires that much input."

"And what if this one does?" Joker asked, shrugging his shoulders, "Cerberus likes to go overboard." _No kidding. They turned this ship from frigate into the size of a cruiser, with the firepower of a dreadnought. They hired some of the most elite operatives in the galaxy. They then spent billions bringing Shepard back to life, and then spent thousands trying to rid him of it. Cerberus going 'overboard' is the biggest euphemism since Kaidan pointed out that Shepard and Tali have a 'fling.' A bloody fling that lead to a certain marriage? Ha!_

Samantha sighed, shaking her head, "I'm not convinced, Joker. I want to talk to it; see if I'm wrong or not."

"Be my guest," Joker replied. Luckily for both him and EDI, they had come up with a full-proof plan on how to full everyone that she was a VI. It was simple; EDI would simply act like one. Wasn't hard. And noone would know. He turned to the hologram pedestal next to him, "EDI."

The blue pawn representing her form appeared, glowing ethereally. She seemed to be looking at him, waiting for an answer as she spoke, her voice feminine in its tone, "Yes. Do you have an inquiry?"

He heard Samantha gasp, and he turned to her, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to be in awe, but noticing his look quickly nodded, clasping her hands behind her back. He let a smirk crease the corner of his mouth, before he straightened out his cap and turned back to EDI, "Specialist Traynor has some questions for you. Needs to know you're VI."

"That information was not programmed within me," EDI replied, "Scanning: Results Negative. Results relative to the quiry provided cannot be given. Please enter another question."

He turned to her, "You see? Just a VI. Nothing more. Trust me, served on the ship longer than you and know how it works. Pretty sure Cerberus wouldn't risk putting an AI on the ship." _And to think I'm defending her, keeping her safe. If this had been when not long after I got the ship, I probably would have rooted her out. But now we're partners in crime. _

Samantha exhaled, but didn't turn to look at him, or answer his question. Finally, after what seemed to be some hesitation, a smile broke her face, one laced with attraction, and Joker couldn't believe what he heard came from her mouth, "Its voice is...sexy. Attractive. I like it."

Samantha's smile quickly dropped when she heard Joker break into a fit of laughter, the specialist turning to face him. She frowned, mouth moving with her thoughts, "What? What's so fun-" she quickly realized just what she had said, and the heat rose to her cheeks in an instant, "Oh...I said that out loud, didn't I? Oh, bollocks..."

Oh, and Samantha was British in descent, which explains the curse word. Not that it helped understand her more, Joker couldn't help but laugh even harder as she said it. Eventually, when he got it under control, he noticed the angry look she was giving him, trying to hide her blush as well, "Sorry, Traynor, but calling a VI sexy wasn't exactly one of your strong suite." _Plus, I don't want to imagine EDI and Samantha. Don't know why, but it makes me...envious? Jealous? Bah. Don't get myself sometimes. Probably just my mind fucking with me._

She merely shook her head, finally managing to work off her embarassment and nod, "Well, you can consider me convinced. Just...no more surprises on the ship, Joker. If it exists, I want to know about it. As will Admiral Anderson."

"Whatever you say, Specialist Traynor," he waved her a mock salute, to which she simply ignored, tapping the haptic interface for the cockpit's new door and moving through and into the gloomy and dimly lit flight deck, where cables lay scrambled over the deck, Samantha walking over them as the door closed on her form. He shook his head, turning to EDI with a grin.

"You have an admirer," Joker stated, his grin omnipotent. In truth, behind his smile, was annoyance. Frustration. Fury. The Alliance had not only taken Shepard's ship, but now they planned to give it to someone else. Its not that he didn't like Anderson, he thought he was a great captain, but the idea that the man would be sleeping in the same bed that Shepard and Tali slept only a few months ago? That he would be commanding the ship with a totally new crew, aside from Joker and Kaidan? It just felt wrong in every way. But until the retrofits were done, Anderson would not be in command, which meant the Normandy fell under its XO's command, which was Kaidan.

EDI responded, this time normally, "Yes. She said my voice was...sexy. I am confused. Does this mean that Samantha Traynor has developed a sexually-driven attraction to me? I do have emotions, but I do not believe myself, in my current form, capable of sexual intercourse. Also, I believe the human term is that Traynor is 'not my type.'"

He laughed, shaking his head, "I think she is, EDI. But she'll get over it," his smile was lost though as he turned around to face the cockpit terminal, which was powered down, remembering what she said after that, "Wait, you have a sexual preference? How? Just who is your 'type?'"

"Male Pilots with a sarcastic attitude," the AI replied with a deadpan voice.

Upon hearing her comment, his smile had instantly dropped, and he looked at the hologram to his side with a worrying frown. _I must be dreaming, because she did not just say that..._And for some reason, he sorta liked it. He shook that thought from his head almost as quickly as it came up, and he just continued to look at her in horror. Eventually, she spoke again.

"That was a joke," she stated.

He gave a sigh of relief, shaking his head as he once more straightened out his cap, turning away from her, "That shit ain't funny EDI. Seriously, you had me worried for a second there."

"So did I."

He didn't even bother asking what she meant by that as he looked out the cockpit windows, watching lazily as an Alliance Second Fleet destroyer lazily drifted by the shipyard, accompanied by, funnily enough, by a Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate. He couldn't see the name from his distance.

Life would be like this for a very long while.

**{Loading...}**

_March 8, 2186_

_1745 hours._

_Conference Room, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_Major Kaidan Alenko._

His eyes drifted across Vancouver's many streets below, the twinkling of the Fraser River never failing to make him feel at peace. Vancouver was the capital of Canada, which had long been assimiliated into the United North American States, ever since the end of the Second American Civil War. Canada wasn't the one assimilated; Mexico, and the US were all part of the nation now, and all followed by the one government. The UNAS government. Canada, for all intents and purposes, had sacrificed its independence the day that war ended, on August 19, 2096.

Canada was his homeland; it was where he descended from. He hadn't seen much of Earth, let alone Canada itself, since he had embarked into space and been forced into Conatix's biotic program on Jump Zero in orbit of Earth, so these last few months had been the only real opportunity to see his home. Vancouver was a wonderful city; heavily metropolitan, many skyscrapers to match, and the occassional merchant freighter or alliance warship moving through the atmosphere and hovering over the atmosphere gave him a feeling of safety.

Eventually, in the end, all he could imagine was the city burning, thousands of people screaming. And the sound of a Reaper's airhorn; the very sound shaking his body to the core.

Those thoughts brought him back to why he was truly here, or why he _had _truly been here. Shepard might have needed him at some point, but that wasn't true anymore. Kaidan, upon landing on Arcturus Station, had been ordered to return to Vancouver, and when he had, the brass had seen fit to promote him to Major. He had been confused at what was going on until Anderson had informed him that he was being chosen to assume command of the Normandy in Shepard's absence, Anderson knowing Marcus would want the ship used for something other than rotting in a dock waiting for the Reapers to show up, and took Kaidan on as his XO. And in Anderson's absence, that effectively made him the captain of the Normandy.

That stealth frigate was his to command, and ever since that realization, Kaidan had barely walked two feet near the thing. It was hanging in orbit, under retrofit in an alliance shipyard, and would stay there until the Reapers arrived and Anderson took control of it; the admiral planned to use it as his flagship and mobile command center during the conflict, while Marcus did what he did best; leading his squad into combat and against the Reapers on the ground. Anderson had planned ahead, but Kaidan couldn't say he liked any of it.

His thoughts consumed him even as he stood there looking through the massive observation windows of the conference room, the equally large conference table for the Defense Committee looming behind him, the windows giving him a clear view of the entire city before them. His hands were clasped behind his back in a parade rest, and his hair was slightly shaven, with the contents of a small beard starting to form around his edges, one he hadn't bothered to tend to. _Maybe I'll want a beard this time 'round. I feel old enough._

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he assumed they were just some Committee member moving to check the room until the figure stood to his right, revealing himself to be Anderson, without his admiral's cap on, but wearing alliance naval uniform, the gold bars of a Rear Admiral pinned on his left breast. He turned to him in an instant, snapping a salute.

The admiral simply laughed, returning the salute, "At least, Major Alenko. No need for formalities here. Noone here to scold you."

Kaidan simply nodded, turning back to face out the window. He sighed once more, and he heard a similiar sound burst from Anderson's own lips, "It's hard, isn't it? The politics. The back-room deals. The underhanded bullshit. The whispered words, followed by the silent creak of a closing door. That's what politics is all about; Shep...Marcus, never really understood that. Sure, his words could move armies and fleets, and his combat skills were like that of Achillies. The man had spirit, but what he lacked was an understanding of politics. He couldn't begin to comprehend what he was meddling in."

Kaidan turned to him, an angry furrow on his brow, "How do you figure that, sir?" There was some slight acid in his tone.

Anderson either ignored it or didn't notice it, his eyes still looking out the window, hands at his sides, "His tactics. He always chose brute force over careful diplomacy. That might have worked well on the battlefield, but the political field requires a deft touch. It corrupts people. Makes them into people they aren't. I've seen special forces becoming politicians, and they become complete cowards. I've seen pacifists become politicians, and next they'll be declaring war on every nation they come across. Truth is, politics corrupts absolutely. Marcus was lucky to never have been involved in it directly. But he was involved. And its left him helpless; politicians are an enemy you can't fight with guns, and you can't fight them with words. Marcus had only the words and the guns, and therefore, he lost the battle."

"Then how do you beat them?" Kaidan asked, genuinely interested.

"By becoming one of them," Anderson simply stated, shaking his head sullenly, "Only way to beat them is to play their game. And by the time you've done that, you become your own worst enemy. I learnt that the hard way. Had to become a Councilor to know what it was all about; difference was, I managed to get out before it tempted me too well, and corrupted me. But even as an Admiral, politics is never far away, and when it sees you, the first thing it'll do is try to annoy me to the point that you just want to draw blood. And that's when they win."

_'...you become your own worst enemy.' Wrex is a Chieftain now, and Liara is the Shadow Broker, who is, in itself, heavily involved with politics. And I seem to be falling to its thrall already. How long before Garrus, Shepard and Tali fall? Damn. We really do become our own worst enemy._

With an inhale of breath, he turned to Anderson, "Well, I won't let the politicians beat me. I won't become one, and I won't tempt them, all I'll do...is do nothing."

Anderson smiled, turning towards him, "Doing nothing makes you invisible to them. They can't berate or scheme or frame someone who does nothing. You're learning fast, Alenko. I can see what Shepard sees in you. I bet he's proud of you, right now."

"Thank you sir," Kaidan smiled half-heartedly, the thought of his Commander locked up still paining him, and he knew Anderson saw it as the Admiral patted his shoulder.

"Don't lose hope. Shepard may be locked up, but his companions aren't. They'll be preparing, and we've got so much of it to do ourselves. Why wait around and mope, when we can move around and get somethings going on? Hackett believes us, and I think we may just have Fleet Admiral Netanyahu selling on it."

Kaidan nodded, looking outside one last time as Anderson began to walk away. He closed his eyes, and then opened them, exhaling as he did and smiling. _Shepard will know I tried something. I'll be a soldier when the time calls for it. Today, I am the gambler. The game changer. _He turned to Anderson, and thought of what he said on politics. _Time to become my own worst enemy. I'll play the game, and I'll win. _He quickly caught up to Anderson, and they left.

He had made a deal with the Devil. He just hoped it played in his favor.

**{Loading...}**

_December 1, 2185_

_1010 hours._

_Main Airlock/Exterior, Halcyon-Class Prototype, Hagalaz Storm Center, Hagalaz._

_Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Agent Feron. _

Chaos. It had all happened so quickly, and Liara had been a fool not to see it coming.

The ship rocked again from another impact, its kinetic barriers already weakening to a barely functional state. With no onboard defenses, it was powerless to fight back, and it had no armor either; so once the shields were breached, it would be torn asunder. Which mean she had to get off it now. Trying to escape with the vessel would be impossible; it wasn't built to move at fast speed or for military maneveurs, so it was cumbersome at best; plus the fact that it had been sitting in one position for years, that the engines were basically neglected and not maintained; making them effectively useless. The only escape was the exterior escape pods.

Sparks flew from a nearby console as she neared the exterior airlock main door, said console then exploding and sending a piece of the wall flying outwards, slamming into the ground with a metallic thud. The bodies of three of her mercs lay on the ground in growing pools of blood; scorch marks podmarking their armor and faces, along with pieces of debris sticking out of them. She ran over them, almost turning to scream at Feron to hurry up when her drell lover ran past her, smiling at her as he ran past. This was all a game to him, and that only made her angry at him. _This is life or death! How can he be smiling at a time like this!_

Feron brought up his omni-tool, quickly imputting the necessary codes into the door for it to shoot open, the harsh winds of Hagalaz howling into the corridor as she ran to join him, both of them already wearing full-head helmets as they rushed out. Glyph was preparing the escape shuttle, and all her stuff was inside, they just needed to reach it. Liara took his offered hand, and he pulled her out onto the deck, sealing the door behind them. Once together, they moved to continue running, only for their eyes to land on the enemy ship that currently was bombarding them.

She identified it in an instant. The hexagonal, golden insignia could be recognized anywhere, and her eyes narrowed in a glare. _Cerberus. Should have known they'd come to take me out. I have been hassling their network a bit. The Illusive Man must be pretty desperate to have me eliminated. _The ship was massive, but clearly wasn't of Cerberus make; it was an alliance light cruiser in design, and she saw its named enscribed on the side. _CAW Napoleon. _The ship's main guns and point-defense lasers were all aimed at her vessel, and as they watched, it fired another volley, missiles and shells arching towards them until impacting the hull, sending vibrations through the ship whilst also causing a shimmer on the side.

Glyph spoke in her helmet comms once more, "Shadow Broker, Kinetic Barriers at 20 percent. Recommend immediate departure."

"Come on, Liara we have to go! The ship is gone, but we can still get out of here!" Feron pleaded, but she wasn't budging, only having eyes for the ship.

She contemplated her actions as the cruiser prepared to fire another salvo. A smile slowly creased her lips. _I can't have the ship any longer, but I won't allow them their victory. _

"They can have my ship," Liara declared. _The engines have enough juice for a short journey. And enough velocity for a hard impact. That's all they will need._

She commed her assistant drone, "Glyph, set the shuttle coordinates for the Citadel. I'll drop off Feron there, and head straight for the Sol System. I want this ship's engines ignited and ready; this ship is going on a small journey. I want to be given full control as well. Inform me when I do have control."

She turned to Feron, and she nodded to the cruiser before them. Feron, confused at her intentions before, saw her motions and an equally sadistic smirk creased his own lips, "Better be gone then," was all he could say as they continued towards their shuttle. Most of her crew had evacuated already, and they would be the last two out. They quickly reached the unmarked private shuttle and opened the hatch, moving inside and closing it behind them as the shuttle's engines fired up. Glyph informed her that she now had full control of the vessel, and she plotted in the coordinates on her omni-tool, before turning it off, entering the cockpit and sitting in the pilot seat, lifting off from the doomed ship's hull as they shot towards the atmosphere.

She used the shuttle's cameras to watch the cruiser as they flew away. Both Feron and herself had grins on their faces as the Halcyon-Class Prototype, the only one in existence, slowly, but gradually turned towards the CAW Napoleon, and flew towards it. The ship fired one final salvo before trying to bug out, but were nowhere fast enough. Her ex-base impacted the Napeleon just as the howling winds blew clouds in front of her view, but both of them could see the flash of bright yellow through the clouds that signalled that the Cerberus cruiser had been destroyed the impact. The brighter flash was her vessel exploding from the impact.

"One hell of a parting gift, Liara," Feron quipped.

She merely gave him a calm smile, watching the drell for a few moments before turning back in the cockpit, watching as the vastness of space welcomed them and the shuttle left Hagalaz behind, for the final time, "Sit back and relax Feron. This'll be a long ride..."

"And we've both got a lot of work to do now."

**{Loading...}**

_April 4, 2186_

_1329 hours._

_Grigori's Quarters, Grigori's Mansion, Milgrom, Bekenstein._

_Master Thief Kasumi Goto._

Two more security measures fell apart from the virus she installed in the Mansion's systems, and The Master Thief walked casually through the door to Vanchev Grigori's main suite doors as if they weren't even there, a small grin crossing her face at just how mediocre the security was. _Compared to my skills of course. Keiji would have worked a system like that in his sleep. Dear old Grigori's gotten lazy. _She knew Grigori well; he was a former assiociate of Donovan Hock, a man who was now help, in no part thanks to her. _Unlike Hock, his mansion won't go up in flames. I only need to access his vault. _

The quarters were an almost exact carbon copy of Hock's, if not the dimmer lighting at present. Kasumi's cloak remained active as she moved inside, the door closing behind her. Noticing two cameras facing his bed, she raised her omni-tool and had them deactivated in seconds, and using an overload program Tali gave her, used it to disable the inactive LOKI and FENRIS mechs lying collapsed in the corner. Her smirk still present, she turned to the open balcony, where city of Milgrom spilled out in the distance, and then to the large queen-sized bed, where the fat form of Vanchev Grigori lay, snoring like a sow's oink. _Disgusting. Never really liked this guy._

If only Garrus were here. That turian loved some viglante justice. That thought wiped the smirk from her face, as her eyes lay on the ground, thoughts rolling away. _Why do I miss him so much? What we had, its just a fling. A few bits of flirting and mucking around, nothing else. I don't...love him, do I? Not like Keiji. No. I loved Keiji, but I don't know if I love Garrus the same way. Bah! Why am I even thinking this! _She had felt detached ever since Garrus left for Palaven after their goodbyes, and it bugged her. _I've got other things to worry about. Like a certain vault._

She turned away from Grigori's stinking, sleeping body and moved over to a blank wall, where she could easily see the lines that marked gaps in the wall. _Jeez, Grigori. Your laziness knows no bounds. _Her omni-tool raised once more, she scanned the door and opened it with a few brute force programs, overriding the combinations and password, opening it in a second. It gave a hiss as it opened, and Kasumi shot a look at Grigori, only to see him still asleep. Turning back to the vault, she watched it open to see the main vault. Opening that as well, she watched as its main item showed itself.

A Reaper artefact, shining with bright red vibrance. It glowed eerily and forbodingly, and she found it hard to keep her eyes on it. Grabbing the device in her pocket, she placed the tiny artefact, which was the size of her palm, and placed it in the device, which immediately emitted a blue containment field around it; that would protect her from indoctrination. She had listened.

Placing it back in her pocket, she moved to walk away, closing the vault behind her, when she heard the door open, and her eyes shot up, moving to activate her cloak desperately. But the salarian spectre that currently stood in his orange and black armor and Tempest SMG in hand was already calling out to her.

"Goto! Stop right there! I have you now! You're under arrest!" Spectre Jondam Bau demanded, SMG raised at her.

Her cloak activated, and she quickly ran for the balcony, knowing Bau could see her; as an ex-STG agent, he knew what the shimmer of a cloak looked like. Nonetheless, he was unable to stop her as she climbed ontop of the balcony, railing and turned towards him, maintaining her balance carefully as he commed her omni-tool behind her back. Bau came into her view, salarian brow creased in annoyance, "You've got nowhere to go Goto! Give it up!"

Kasumi laughed, "I like you Bau, but I'm not going to let you arrest me! I've got many important things to do!"

"Like the Reapers?" Bau asked, and Kasumi actually looked shocked, "I know what you seek, but I can't just let you walk away. What you're doing is theft, and even in pursuit of the goal you strive for, that is unacceptable! I can help you, but you must turn yourself over!"

She pouted, crossing her arms, "No can do, Bau. I'm very impressed by your abilities to track me wherever I go, but I made a promise to Shep to make sure the galaxy was ready. And noone, not even you, is going to stop me."

"You've got nowhere to go!" Bau exclaimed, edging towards her slowly.

A response on her omni-tool, and she merely grinned one final time, "On the contrary," and with that, she leaned backwards and fell off the balcony, plummetting towards the streets below...

...only to land in the seat of a skycar as her fellow associate arrived, and the door closed to Bau's astonished face as the skycar flew off towards Milgrom, a very amused Kasumi in its passenger seat. Turning to her turian rescuer, she handed him the credit chit she owed him, and turned back to face the windscreen.

"Just what did you do in there?" the turian asked, "I heard shouting. Who was that?"

Kasumi merely smiled, "A very determined spectre," her grin only grew as she lay back, patting her pant's pocket to make sure the artefact was still there, "On a determined quest to put a determined thief in prison." _Never in a million years._

_Not while Garrus and Shepard depend on me._

It was a quiet ride into Milgrom.

**{Loading...}**

_April 6, 2186_

_1400 hours._

_Geth Consensus Server, Unknown Location, Shev'viz Continent, Rannoch._

_Legion._

Uplink with consensus achieved. Beginning uplink.

Uplink complete. Awaiting confirmation from all one thousand, one hundred and eighty-three programs.

Confirmation received. Loading data...

Data upload complete. Integration into Consensus complete. Welcome.

Platform Runtime 296210000: Welcome back, Platform Runtime 000000204. We welcome you to our Consensus. Caution: Millions of Platform and System Runtimes are unavailable at this time during construction of Grand Consensus Superstructure; they have volunteered themselves for structure testing. Initial testing results conclusive; structure can support billions of runtimes; will support entire geth species. Recommend complete species upload in 5 standard galactic months. Pending approval.

Platform Runtime 000000204: We conclude that this goal is viable. Old Machine threat substantial. Grand Consensus Superstructure will greatly increase chance of geth evolution. Organics value individuality. We have observed this during our time on Normandy; Shepard-Commander has taught us many things. Possibility of this facility providing this chance is a 61.23 percent variable. We will consider these assessments.

Platform Runtime 296210000: Affirmative. Old Machine threat imminent. Complete militarization still a matter of Consensus alternative. Will not decide until Consensus reached. Creator patrols have increased once more, and we fear Creator attack.

Platform Runtime 000000204: Creator Tali'Shepard has promised that subsequent attacks from Creator forces is unlikely. They will reach Consensus that Old Machines are more of a threat, and the promise of their homeworld will ward off any possible attack.

Platform Runtime 296210000: We will wait. Old Machine threat is imminent. We will prepare.

Platform Runtime 000000204: We will prepare.

Consensus: We will all prepare.

**Loading...}**

_February 6, 2186_

_1940 hours._

_Main Reception, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Wards, The Citadel._

_Assassin Thane Krios, C-Sec Investigator Kolyat Krios._

His lungs felt like they were on fire. He found it hard to breathe, and every time he did, it was a deathly rasp and almost came off as choking. He tried to keep himself standing, but it was proving to be a difficult battle with all his dry heaving. But it was subsiding; ever since he had left Mexico on Earth, the effects had been wearing off.

It had been normal at first. Just himself and his son, visiting Earth to see what the human homeworld was all about. It had all gone well, until Thane had his oxygenic attack; a side effect of his Kepral's Syndrome, and his body's inability to produce enough oxygen for his body. The attack had left Kolyat terrified, that was plain to see, and Thane knew these attacks would only get more frequent. He was nearing the conclusion of his disease, and he wouldn't last much longer, but what time he had left, he would spend with his son. If this disease didn't claim him today.

The elevator finally arrived at Huerta Memorial Hospital, which apparently had the best care on the entire Citadel. As they moved inside, they found the hospital's main reception area to be moderately quiet, with not much activity. Observation windows on both sides gave them a beauitful view of the Presidium down below, and the reception area was located in the middle, with only four people manning it. A sofa lay to the left side, with a medical kiosk next to it for basic precriptions, the hospital doubling as a pharmacy as well.

Kolyat, arm still under his father's, guided him over to a chair nearby, slowing sitting him down in it. Thane nodded his thanks, finally seeming to get his breathing under control. He kneeled down infront of his father, trying to gain his attention with a wave of his hand, and Thane looked him in the eyes.

"Are you okay father?" Kolyat asked, the terror in his eyes palpable, "Please tell me you're okay. I already called ahead, they're sending a doctor."

"I'm...I'm fine...Kolyat," Thane breathed heavily, sucking in as much air as he dared as he straightened himself up in the soft chair, trying to maintain an air of dignity about himself, "I will be okay. I had an attack, that's all."

A female voice, synthesized, strangely, called out from the reception area, "AH! You must be Mister Krios. Where is my patient?"

Both of them turned to see who the doctor was, and were left dumbfounded. She was quarian, and her omni-tool was active, and she was carrying a medical kit in the other hand as she slowly moved towards them. And her eyes seemed to widen as Thane's did, the drell smiling grimly.

"Miss Vael, a pleasant surprise."

"Thane?" Lia said the name like it was shocking, and Kolyat was confused as he looked between them. Thane turned to Kolyat and explained to his son who Lia was; meanwhile, the said quarian moved to his side and began scanning his vitals with her omni-tool. Finished explaining to Kolyat, he turned back to Lia, who was looking over his readings on her omni-tool as he spoke, "Lia, you must know something. Shepard, he's been-"

"-imprisoned by the Alliance for destroying the Bahak System. I saw the news," Lia finished for him, shaking her head as she returned into doctor mode, "Your attack seems to have subsided, but there isn't much I can do for you except recommend you stay in this hospital. I'm not experienced in treating Kepral's Syndrome, and Professor Solus never really went into it in detail, so I'm a bit blank on the details. I'm sorry Thane, but staying here seems the best option."

Thane merely nodded his compliance, closing his eyes as he breathed in fresh air, his lungs no longer burning as they had been. _I knew something like this was bound to happen. Arashu knew it. As did Kalahira. My time as an assassin appears to be coming to a close, but I can enjoy the solace at the end for a while longer. _"I thank you, Miss Vael. At least my son will be close by, and I have a friend to talk to."

Lia smiled behind her mask before turning to Kolyat, and shot out her hand, "Ah, I don't believe we've met. We spoke only briefly over the comms. I'm Lia'Vael nar Ulnay. I served on the Normandy."

Kolyat hesitantly took her hand in his own, shaking it gently, with a growing smile on his own face, "I...I'm Kolyat Krios. I didn't expect to see a quarian working here."

"I'm on my pilgrimage," she explained, cocking her head, "Had to work here as part of that. Hoping to use my knowledge as a doctor to complete my pilgrimage. Return as a medical professional and work with Elan'Nara on the Rayya," after a moment of silence, Lia looked down to their hands, to see them still locked in a hand shake. She looked back up, a grin on her face, "You...You can let go of my hand now."

Kolyat, realizing how long he had lingered, just letting himself look into her shining pearls for eyes, pulled his hand, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, sorry about that."

Thane merely watched the exchange, and he smiled. _Kolyat always was awkward around women. But this one seems different...he seems to be more...ah, that is merely my father's sense. _He shook the thought away, and looked back to Lia, "I will be sitting here if a doctor needs to see me. I will not be leaving any time soon."

"I shall inform Doctor Michel. She's the manager here," Lia informed him, nodding, "She'll be here soon. I have to go, but I will talk to you later," turning to Kolyat briefly, she nodded, "And...we'll meet again soon, Krios Jnr. It was nice meeting you."

"Please, just Kolyat," his son insisted, smiling back, "Bye." He seemed to finish awkwardly, and he did not immediately rip his eyes away from her form as she walked away. And he could've sworn his eyes lingered on her buttocks before turning to face his father again. Thane mentally smiled. _Ah...I do believe my son has found his first attraction. Next comes the crush, I should think._

"Will you be okay, father?" Kolyat asked, concerned once more.

Thane nodded, pulling a nearby chair next to him and patting it, "Come, sit with me. Talk with me. I will feel better with my son near."

And so they talked. And they talked about the future. About what awaited.

Only after the Reapers were finished could he find true peace.

And he knew that too well.

**Loading...}**

_May 14, 2186_

_Undisclosed Location._

_Miranda Lawson._

Miranda Lawson sighed as he let herself fall into the seat infront of her terminal, and gently rolled herself closer so she could type into it. She had managed to draw off the attention of the Cerberus agents on her trail, but it hadn't been easy, and she had almost been spotted. But she had done it, and now here she was, sitting behind her terminal, pondering whether she should contact her twin sister, Oriana Lawson, or not.

_For all I know, the Illusive Man's dogs could be monitoring my communications right at this very moment. I can't risk breaking silence, but what if Oriana is in danger? I need to warn her, and that might warrant putting myself in danger. _

Her decision made, she quickly brought the terminal to life, and searched through her videochat extranet contacts, eventually landing on Oriana's. Selecting the icon, she leaned back, put on her best convincing warm smile, and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. She watched as the connection feed circled around in a buffer pattern, until finally her sister's face appeared on screen...

...and she saw the look of sheer terror on her face.

"Miri!" Oriana exclaimed in relief, shaking her head. She seemed to be sitting in a dark room, and Miranda could see Oriana's parents moving boxes behind her. Something wasn't right; there was rings around her eyes, and they seemed to look sunken, as if she had a lack of sleep. Before she could ask what was wrong, Oriana spoke once more, whispering, as if someone might hear them, "I'm so glad you called. My parents and I are moving to the Citadel; its no longer safe here."

She leaned forward, her smile evaporating and a look of cool calm painting her face in determination, "The Citadel? Oriana, what's going on. Was your location compromised?"

"Yes, but not by father. Not this time, I think," Oriana assured her, looking around before leaning in closer, her eyes meeting Miranda's, "Its Cerberus. The Illusive Man. I know about what's been going on Miranda, and if he knows we're here, it isn't safe anymore. We have to go now. We'll be on the Citadel in the next few days."

She nodded, "I'll meet you there then."

Oriana widened her eyes, shaking her head, "What? No! I can't ask you to risk your life, Miri-"

"-but I will be," Miranda finished for her, shaking her head, "This is not up for negoitation. The Illusive Man is a tenacious bastard, and he won't stop until he has you in his grip. He's going to try and use you against me, I can guess; try to use you to get me back to him. He's got multiple agents he can rely upon; dammit, he'll either try and kidnap you or assassinate you, either way, he'll get what he wants. Me. Noone hurts my sister and lives, and he knows that. He's relying upon it to reel me in. I've got to protect you, and that's what I'm going to do. I'll relocate to the Citadel, set up a secret base there. I've got a few contacts who can help; non-Cerberus."

"Okay Miri," Oriana whispered, the concern clear in her voice, "Just be careful."

"And you. If Cerberus comes after you, you call me for help, and you run like hell," she nodded, leaning, "Stay safe Oriana. We'll see each other soon, I promise."

Oriana gave a brief nod, and Miranda closed the connection. She closed her eyes, breathed in and breathed out, before opening them again and shooting up, moving further into the room to collect her things. _The Reapers will have to wait while my sister is in danger. Once she is safe, I can continue preparing for them._

But only once she was safe.

And somehow, Miranda knew Cerberus would give her no end of trouble on the way to the Citadel.

She depended on it.

_**A/N:**_

_**A short prologue for ya? Yeah, this prologue was just to wrap up the events leading up to ME3 short and sweetly; let you know what the characters were getting up to. And as you'll have seen, there was alot of changes too. Get used to it; there's alot of these 'minute changes' in Holocaust. And alot of them you'll like. Alot.**_

_**This is some teaser material. The first chapter might not be for a while, as Term Three of School begins tomorrow again for me, and I've finally decided to get my YouTube channel into action. It'll involve content from many video games, including Halo, Mass Effect, Crysis, Battlefield, Destiny, etc. I can't wait! But that's not for here; this is for Holocaust. I hope you enjoyed this tiny snippet, and I hope the wait for Chapter 1 is worth it for you guys!**_

_**Until then, Keelah Se'lai!**_


	2. Chapter 1 Apocalypse

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**APOCALYPSE**

_June 2, 2186_

_1000 hours._

_Main Bridge, Killmanjaro-Class Dreadnought SSV Aconcagua HA-1, In Defensive Line over Arcturus Station, Arcturus System, Arcturus Stream._

_Fleet Admiral Adina Netanyahu._

All had been normal operation. The admiral had woken up at 0700 hours to a mug of hot coffee and a breakfast of strawberry porridge. She would check her terminal for news from her homeland, Israel, and then she would have a shower, dress, and make her bed. Once done, she would head to the medical bay for some of the annual shots, before heading up to the bridge and signing in, relieving the captain of the command while they went to the mess hall for a break. The Aconcagua, as usual, was in an orbital position just above Arcturus Station, serving as its primary defense. She had corvettes, backed by a couple of frigates, patrolling the system, whilst the rest of her frigates and her destroyers monitored the relay. The cruisers surrounded the station, the three battleships she had on the other side, and the carrier docked with the station, as it was not needed unless launching an assault.

All had been normal operation, and she would have been gazing upon stars and reading reports today.

But today was not a normal day. That had ended four hours ago when they first got the reports.

The Kite's Nest, the home cluster of the batarian species, had come under attack from an unknown foe. They had no idea what it was, and they couldn't identify it, but before the Hegemony had even mobilized its navy, most of their systems had been overrun, the enemy fleet having been reported to number in the hundreds. By the time the Hegemony's Navy had assembled over Khar'Shan, the enemy force had already entered the system, and had systematically obliterated every defense station the batarians had active, blew past their outer colonies, and headed straight for the batarian homeworld.

It was a bloodbath, from what she heard. The attack was so swift, sudden and out of nowhere, that the batarians simply hadn't stood a chance. By the time all contact finally ceased with the Kite's Nest, three quarters of the batarian navy had been wiped out, and the rest was completely routing. What happened to Khar'Shan was up to the imagination, but it wouldn't be pretty, if the destruction of the Hegemony's military was any indication.

The Council didn't know what to make of this threat, and the Parliament was terrified. For two reasons. One, they knew exactly who the enemy was and who had warned them about it.

Two, the enemy, one Adina knew simply as the Reapers, was now heading straight for the Arcturus System. To Arcturus Station, and to Earth.

Once the Kite's Nest was overrun, reports stated that the Viper Nebula had come under attack, before all contact with that nebula was lost as well. With the Batarian Hegemony now defeated, the Reapers had clearly moved to step two; using the mass relay network, their fleet was now heading to deal with the Systems Alliance. It was with that, that the Parliament declared a DEFCON 1 red alert. Every single navy, marine and army unit was being mobilized, and their defenses bolstered. They believe the batarians lost because they were unprepared; but the Alliance wouldn't be.

Even now, the Aconcagua sat in defense position next to Arcturus Station, capital of the Systems Alliance, with her First Fleet's carrier, SSV Benjamin Davis, along with all three battleships covering her flagship's flanks. The rest of the fleet was in an arrowhead formation, with corvettes, fighters and frigates at the front, interceptors and destroyers in the middle, and light and heavy cruisers taking the back; and behind them, her dreadnought, and the ships supporting it.

Nitesh Singh's Third Fleet had been ordered to bolster hers, and had arrived in system an hour ago, quickly spreading his ships out. His flagship, the Killmanjaro-Class SSV Logan, had moved to the far side of Alcyoneus, an asteroid orbitting the star Arcturus, and his three battleships supported him. His fleet's carrier, the SSV Thomas Edison, had taken position near the system's outer edge, but not too far away from the station, and the rest of his ships were spread out. Four of his heavy cruisers waited near the relay to surprise the enemy, and the rest of his ships surrounded the relay, whilst also bolstering her forces as well.

The rest of the Alliance fleet was all over the place. The Second, Fourth and Fifth Fleet were tasked with defending Earth, the Sixth Fleet was defending the Asgard System of the Exodus Cluster, while the Seventh defended the Utopia System. The Eighth Fleet is currently in charge of acting as reserves for both the Sol, Utopia, Asgard and Arcturus Systems, and was merely waiting. The Parliament, in its entirety, was trapped on Arcturus Station, but they were confident that her fleet and Singh's would fight off the Reaper attack. Garrong wasn't available to coordinate them, as he was trying to keep the panic from brewing back on Earth. It was up to them now.

And now they waited.

The captain, Yanis Petry, spoke, noting the lack of reports of engagement from the Utopia and Asgard Systems, "We should have heard something by now. The enemy would have to come through those systems to reach us. Why haven't we-"

"Admiral, ma'am!" The communications officer exclaimed, "We've got Fleet Admiral Nakamura on the line. Says its urgent."

"On screen," Adina ordered in her commanding voice, and she watched the wrinkled mess that was Nakamura's face pop up on screen, the man never failing to unimpress her. But he was one hell of an admiral; days she wondered why he wasn't helping guard Earth. He was a better Admiral than bloody Viktoriya Arefyev.

Osamu was speaking instantly, "Admiral, you better gear up and batter down the hatches. The enemy just jumped in system, but they _completely _ignored Terra Nova and Teoh's fleet at Eden Prime. They're headed straight for Arcturus and..._nanite koto! _Look how fast they move! For ships of their size, they should not be able to move at speeds like that! Admiral, those ships, by our calculations, will reach the nearest relay connecting to Arcturus in...5 minutes!"

Adina's eyes widened instantly, "_Five _minutes!? Nakamura, stay where you are and inform Teoh he is to hold position over Eden Prime until he is ordered otherwise. We'll hold off the enemy," she told him, before he cut the comm, the screen splitting back to the void of space before them; a view now filled with that of warships preparing for battle. She turned to her comms officer, "Relay commands to the fleet and inform Admiral Singh; enemy forces," _oh to hell with it, _"_Reaper _forces will hit the relay in five minutes. Inform all captains of the First Fleet to assume battlestations. Sound the General's Quarters. Tactical, get the MAC loaded and coordinate fire with the Logan! Ready our point defense weapon systems, and tell the Benjamin Davis to deploy a screening of bombers around our frigates; have their interceptors prepped for launch on my mark!"

Exclamations of "Copy that ma'am!" came from the Tactical and Comms officer, and the bridge came chaos as officers moved from positions and prepared for battle, the bridge's color turning blood red as alarms sounded all over the ship, the VI's emotionless voice coming over the PA System, "General's Quarters, General's Quarters, all hands, man your battlestations. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Incoming enemy forces inbound in five mikes. General's Quarters, General's Quarters, all hands, man your battlestations. This is not a drill."

Adina Netanyahu simply stood there, alliance cap on him and over her head, and hands clasped behind her back, simply standing there, eyes blank of expression. She seemed to be unfazed; but deep inside, her mind was at war with itself, and full of anger. _If only we'd listened! If we had gotten our heads out of our asses, and just listened, and prepared! Shepard warned us, and we dismissed him, and now they are here. The Reapers are here. Here to prove us wrong. Damn it! Hashem, if you're listening, please have mercy on your people. Please, do not just protect Israel, but the entire galaxy as well. I cry for your protection..._

The Reapers had essentially defeated the batarian hegemony in four hours, scattering its military to the wind. Whatever was left of their fleet was likely fleeing into the Terminus Systems, with their homeworld and home cluster now in rapidly expanding Reaper-occupied territory. _And now they come to claim Earth and Arcturus. Over our dead bodies._

Two minutes passed. Three. Four. Until only 30 seconds were left.

They sat there, waiting patiently, Singh's ships at the relay ready to engage the Reapers as soon as they came through the relay. Maybe they would be able to snag a few kills, cripple a few capital ships, allowing the rest of the fleets to move in and defeat the Reaper fleet before they can close in on Arcturus Station. They simply could not afford to lose the Parliament. Their very leadership was on the station, and losing them would be anarchy. The Alliance would fall apart. _Just like the Hegemony. And their lack of organization is only what made them easier to conquer._

Time was up. In the distance, she saw flashes of blue light, knowing that the Arcturus Relay was active and the enemy was coming through. The telltale yellow explosions signalled the engagement of battle, and they all sat back and waited. She gulped, and sweat pooled at her brow, just waiting for Singh's ships to announce their victory. But nothing happened. No announcements over the comms. Just deathly silence.

Finally, Admiral Singh's voice came over the comm, but it was not the words she had wanted to hear, and it sent shudders down her spine, "Fall back to the station! Fall back! Helm, get us out of here! Netanyahu, enemies coming your way! We couldn't hold them! They were too powerful, we had to break off! We'll bolster as best we can!"

Adina weakly nodded, "Copy that, Admiral. Get the Logan to my position." She then cut the comms, and waited for the Reapers to descend upon them. She watched the Logan into a firing directly above her, and watched in shocked awe as the Thomas Edison limped away, two of her engines blown completely apart by a grazing shot, and a large section of hull blasted away, exposing four decks to space, and one of its hangars looked to be completely destroyed. It cruised at half its normal speed, followed by the rest of the Third Fleet. She noted that half his corvettes, a tenth of his frigates, five of his heavy cruisers, and two of his battleships were missing. Her eyes only widened further. _My god..._

"Ma'am! We have a visual!"

"Enhance!"

Enhance he did, and as the camera zoomed in, they watched the forms of the Reaper vessels encringe upon them. They were beyond massive; they were simply gargantuan. The capital ships were easy to pick out from the smaller vessels, and they were definitely the biggest; far bigger than any of their dreadnoughts, and she saw at least seven of them. They looked exactly like the 'geth dreadnought' at the Battle of the Citadel three years ago. Infront of them were ten smaller versions, of a type she didn't recognize. They looked like scorpions with their back jutting out like a scorpion's tail, and a red eye in the middle. But the rest of their small body resembled a crab; with four legs to support it, but now folded in as they travelled through space. _Small by Reaper standards, but those things are still at least the size of a turian cruiser..._

As the camera zoomed into normal view, the captain informed her that the entire fleet could now hear her. She had to give the order to open fire before the Reapers were upon them. But there were seventeen of them. Singh had more ships than them; easily bested them 5 to 1. But she could surmise just how many he had destroyed. _I bet he never even pierced their shields._

A flash of brilliant yellow, followed by a heated tungsten shell shooting forward through space signalled the firing of the Logan's MAC gun, followed by the rest of his ships opening fire; the blues and reds of heated tungsten, missiles, ICMBs, ballistic rockets and pulse lasers lighting up the void as they travelled towards the incoming force. Adina nodded, practically shouting.

"FIRE! ALL OF YOU, FIRE DAMN IT! EVERYTHING WE HAVE!"

Her fleet delivered. The opening of the attack was sounded by the thunderous boom of the Aconcagua's MAC cannon, followed by the rest of her fleet. Two ICMBs erupted from one of her battleships, followed by a steady, almost non-stop salvo, of javelin torpedoes from a destroyer. The Benjamin Davis unhinged its cargo, and swarms of fighters shot out to meet the enemy, but seemed to be destroyed in the dozens as spherical drones shot into the field, particle beams firing and impacting the fighters, destroying them with one hit.

The Logan's MAC round hit one of the smaller ships, the ones she had taken to calling Destroyers, and she watched as its momentum seemed to slow slightly, a blackened piece of armor showing up on their visuals she frowned, "Do a scan of the smaller vessels."

The scans were done, and confirmed her suspicions. The capital ships seemed to yield extremely powerful kinetic barriers, whilst the smaller Destroyers didn't possess any at all, and only had thick armor. That was something they could exploit, "Tell Admiral Singh to have his ships focus their fire on the Destroyers, whilst her fresher ships concentrated on the bigger capital ships. Again and again, her dreadnought's cannon reported, hitting Reaper after Reaper, and only then did she realize that the capital ships weren't even slowing down, and simply sped towards her fleet's center line. _Oh shi...!_

Two frigates attempted to steer out of the way, but were too late as the first Reaper slammed into them, the two ships shattering like glass in their path, their crews scattered to the wind as their ships blew apart. The second one extended one of its legs, wrapping it around a corvette and crushing it in its grip as its shots harmlessly pinged off its armor, and from deep inside, she watched as a eerily familiar, blood red glow built up, before spilling out hot death, the kinetically sped-up thanix cannon firing a tongue of red flame that impacted the hull of a nearby light cruiser, severing it completely in two with one shot; seemingly ignoring its kinetic barriers like they didn't exist. The battle was quickly turning into chaos as her numerous fleet captains panicked, trying desperately to protect Arcturus Station in the disorganized combat.

"Bring us on a full broadside! Show them our guns; coordinate firing solutions, and fire at will," she ordered, watching as her ship swung to the starboard side, their guns now facing the enemy as they opened fire; missiles, lasers, two ICBMs and multiple rotary cannons. The Logan joined in the combat, and the Benjamin Davis fell back as it was swarmed by drones, the carrier's cruiser escorts trying to pick them off to give it a clear line of retreat.

The Reaper assault was relentless, and they didn't stop for a second. They seemed to know every tactic before they made it; using overwhelming force on them was pointless, as they would either speed up and ram any ships in their way, or they'd fire their thanix cannons, sometimes cutting through three ships in a row. It was a slaughter house, and their forces still had yet to do any damage.

She watched steadily in astonishment as a Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate, the SSV Washington, shot past like an arrow, narrowly missing the beam of a Reaper Destroyer as it latched onto a fleeing heavy cruiser, and it did a piercing dive, before unleashing a flurry of javelin torpedo strikes onto said Destroyer. Apart from shaking alittle, the Reaper barely noticed, and seemed to not be able to see the frigate as it flew past. Adina smiled. _Those stealth drives are coming in handy. The Reapers can't see through them._

A piercing beam of light from the Destroyer marked the end of the SSV Warsaw, the ship gutted by the beam and spilling its contents into open space. Its eezo core followed the detonation of the vessel's drive core, the combined explosion engulfing the Reaper, but it soon emerged from it unscatched, the Destroyer gracefully lifted off the wreckage and up, only for the Washington to bombard it again. Adina continued to smile...

...only to drop it as the Washington went in for another strike, only for the Destroyer's thanix to light up and fire again. The stealth frigate practically barrelled into the shot, and the entire front half caved in from the impact, and the beam erupted out the other side. Still flying, the Washington's ruin slammed into the Reaper, exploding in multiple directions from the impact, before the Destroyer casually flew off, moving to gut its next victim. Adina could only watch in sheer shock, as even the state of the art Tantalus Drive Core and Stealth Drives failed to give them an advantage.

"Ma'am! The station!" The comms officer shouted in panic, pointing at the station on the screen, "Enemy forces converging on it!"

She turned in a hurry, and watched as three Reaper capital ships (or Sovereign-Class Reapers, or simply Sovereigns, as she called them) broke off from the main assault to move towards Arcturus Station, who lay forgotten in the battle. She immediately hailed the Benjamin Davis, ordering it to fly alongside her, followed by her next two battleships. With her ships beside, and quickly joined by some ships from Singh's fleet, and they sped towards the station at full military thrust.

_This battle is quickly going North. Damn it, we need reinforcements. I should call in the Sixth and Seventh Fleets..._

_Yeah, only for them to be slaughtered too. If they survive this battle, then humanity isn't out of this yet. I won't call them into the butcher. At least this gives them a chance to regroup._

It wasn't long before the two forces clashed between Arcturus Station, opening fire once more. Two of the Third Fleet's destroyers attempted to circle around them, but were quickly spotted by one of them and swatted one aside like an irritating fly, the hull tearing from the impact. The other barrated it with javelin torpedoes, but quickly fell victim as well to the Reaper.

Her dreadnought's main guns fought the enemy pound for pound, but they simply were not doing enough damage to amount to anything. And just as the Aconcagua was preparing to launch an ICBM, the Benjamin Davis came into view...

...only to light up as it was gutted by one of the Reapers' thanix cannons. The red light broke through the carrier's kinetic barrier, melted straight through the armor plating, and erupted out the other side, splitting the carrier clean in half. Unlaunched fighters, interceptors and bombers spilled out of its gutted hangar bays, exploding in space, colliding with each other, or simply impacting the hulls of nearby warships. She was simply forced to watch as the two halves that once represented the First Fleet's carrier floated off into space, destroyed.

And as she watched in horror, two of the Reaper Sovereigns ignored her counteraction completely, and closed the distance between them and Arcturus Station.

The station's defenses opened fire, GARDIANs alight and point defense lasers impacting their barriers, but it did nothing but irritate them. She ordered her ship be brought about, but it was too late, and she watched as the first thanix beam cut through space and sliced through the station, tearing a clean hole right through it, the second Reaper following suit.

_It's over. I can't stop them. None of us can. They're too powerful._

All around her, the First and Third Fleets were laid to waste. The hulks of dead starships floated through space, their crews long dead, bodies gliding through the void. The Third Fleet's battleships were non-existent, and the Thomas Edison, before limping, could now be found being torn apart by the legs of a Destroyer. Frigates fled the scene, trying to regroup, never giving in, but even their spirit in battle couldn't win. _We've lost. We can't hold this position. The only hope now is to...is to..._

She turned back to the bridge, seeing that Arcturus Station was flying away in parts, the space station being torn asunder by the Reaper assault, which was now being joined by two Destroyers. She had no other choice, "Head for the relay. Get us to the Asgard System. Link up with the Sixth Fleet."

The crew merely looked at her slackjawed. But she couldn't afford to be weak. She could only hope that the three fleets protecting Earth could hold the Reapers off. _And even that is a false hope._

"You heard me," she growled, "Arcturus Station is lost. There is nothing more we can do. If we hold this position, we lose the entire fleet, which means humanity has a few less ships to help in the continuing war. We'll link up with Nakamura and Teoh. Now. Get Admiral Singh on the line...if he's still alive."

The bridge crew slowly nodded their reluctant agreement, their minds slowly coming to realize the hopelessness of their situation. The captain looked defeated, and merely watched with a blank, horrified stare as Arcturus Station, capital of the Alliance, was ripped apart, slowly and surely, piece by piece. And to think, over 400,000 people lived on that station. _And with them, the entire Alliance Parliament. Even the Prime Minister was on that station. And now they'll all die...because we simply couldn't protect them._

Singh's voice came over the line, and he sounded tired and defeated, "This battle is not going well, Admiral. And...and...Arcturus Station...it has fallen..."

"Which is why we can't stay here anymore. Ever heard of the saying 'live to fight another day?'" she asked, and seeing his reluctant nod, she gave a weak one in reciprocation, "Then that is what we must do. I recommend taking what's left of our fleets and making for the relay. We'll regroup in the Asgard System with Nakamura and Teoh, and we'll work out what to do from there. I recommend you send warning to Garrong on Earth; Arcturus Station has fallen, and the Reapers are on their way to Sol. Be ready."

"Ma'am, new contacts at the Arcturus Relay," the comms officer declared, and her eyes only widened in horror as he spoke, "It's...more of them, Admiral. I count at least fifty-two capital ships, and sixty-two smaller destroyers. I'm also counting one larger signature; it appears to be bigger than the capital ships; holy shit, its six kilometers in _length. _Look at the size of that thing!"

_'...he's six kilometers in length. He's their leader, and the biggest Reaper I've ever seen.' _Those had been Shepard's words, and she instantly knew who it was. _That's the one called Harbinger. Their leader._

"That's their flagship. If their force is that big, the one that attacked us must have been a screening force. A scout," she shook her head. _We were defeated by a __**scouting **__force. How do we hope to beat these things? _"Which means making for the relay will now be suicidal. Make for the system's outer rim; once we reach the nearest relay to this cluster, we'll use that to head for Asgard. Inform the Logan of this as well," she also had to make a difficult decision. The rest of her fleet couldn't escape without a distraction, "Have the Tokyo, Nairobi, Baghdad, Darwin and Los Angeles cover our escape."

Noone even blinked. Not a flinch. They just carried out their orders; they had seen alot worse today. So they merely watched as the ships moved forward, the heavy cruiser Darwin leading, to delay the Reapers, whilst the Aconcagua and the rest of the fleet pulled out, followed by the Logan and the rest of Third Fleet. By the time they reached the outer rim, and the Admiral ordered the cameras turned to face Arcturus Station, she was horrified even further by what she saw.

The Los Angeles, Baghdad, Tokyo and the Nairobi were destroyed, and the Darwin and Los Angeles were desperately trying to hold them off, but were fast losing. Arcturus Station was a floating ruin; pieces of metal and hull floated in the abyss, with fires being blown out by the lack of oxygen. What had once been the beating heart of human civilization was now a smoldering ruin. The mass relay, meanwhile, continued to flash as more and more Reaper forces poured through, and by the time they left the system entirely, over one hundred and ninety-six capital ships had poured through, along with two hundred and forty-five destroyers.

And the relay kept on flashing.

The war was looking bleak for them. She ordered a message sent to Earth to warn them of what was coming.

She didn't want to even think of what they were going to do to Earth.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1106 hours._

_Living Quarters, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_Marcus Shepard._

He danced around the garden, swinging his arms up high as he held the toy alliance fighter craft in his hand, running around as if to put the vessel to flight. He laughed and giggled, while also trying to imitate the sounds of the fighter flying. He smiled, large and wide, and seemed to be in perputual bliss as he moved around the garden. He wore a large, wooly jumper, and his tiny, but long, legs were wrapped in skin-tight, blue jeans. His hair was a combed blonde, and his eyes turqouise, radiating a sense of innocence. His smooth cheeks radiated in the brilliant sun of Sol, and his environment was surrounded by the giant skyscrapers of Vancouver, standing vigil over him like tall sentinels.

His environment was a bright greenery, with lime grass and dark plants of many different shapes and sizes. He watched even further as the kid seemed to stop his motion, looking up as the continuous howl of a UT-47 Kodiak Shuttle, covered in Alliance blue and white, shot over his location, and he smiled as he watched it go by, as if in awe. Once the shuttle had disappeared behind the Committee building, joining the traffic of skycars up above, he turned back to see four children joining him, all of them boys and girls, and all holding toys of their own; alliance frigates, turian cruisers and asari dreadnoughts. Two more kids appeared, one holding what looked to be a...geth cruiser, while the other held...

He cringed at the sight of a child wielding a model of Sovereign, holding it up and making terrible horn sounds with her mouth, "The geth have come to deztroy you all!" the two kids shouted out, and one kid from the larger group stood out, holding an action figurine of...who else? Himself. He only watched with a growing smile as the kid charged forth, waving Commander Marcus Shepard in the air, cheering, "I am Commander Shepherd! Saveor of the Sitadell! And I will DEZTROY YOU!" They charged forth, and the kids pretended to do battle, with the one wielding the action figurine shouting words like 'I will destroy you!" "I'll kill you!" "Enemies everywhere!"

He liked watching the children outside play, but sometimes, it made him sad. He thought about this as he leaned against the window with his arm bracing against it, other hand wielding a forgotten datapad. He could have had children of his own. Could have been a father. But the call of war had called to him, and he had answered.

The life he could have had if he hadn't chosen the Marine Corps. If he hadn't joined the Alliance Navy.

_It would have been a short lived life. I would never have found out about the Reapers and stopped the attack on the Citadel and Saren. I would never have landed on Eden Prime, or served on the Normandy, or met Anderson. Or Joker. Or Kaidan. Or Garrus. Or...Tali. My Tali._

Damn it. Why couldn't he forget her for a few moments!

The six months they had been seperated without contact had been unbelievably agonizing, but he had learnt to cope with it and found other things to preoccupy himself with. But no matter what he did, she always worked herself back into his mind. God he missed her. He wondered when he would see her again. _Wherever you are, sweetheart, please be careful. Please...stay safe. _

The bliss of watching the children play down below ceased as he heard the door open behind him with a mechanical sigh, one he returned in full as he left the window's side, arm falling to his side as he turned towards the marine named James Vega, who still wore his standard issue alliance white singlet, insignia woven in on the front, and dogtags hanging from his neck, black hair formed in an almost mohawk fashion, but too short. The tattooes on his broad, thick, muscled arms told everyone who saw him that he was of Mexican descent. That, and his curse words. He had alot of those.

He snapped a salute upon getting inside, "Commander."

He exhaled, tossing the datapad of information he had onto the desk infront of him before taking a seat behind it, leaning back, "I told you not to call me that anymore, Vega. Not only am I not even military anymore, but I'm not a Spectre either. Cut the 'Commander' crap. And drop that damn salute too." He said it with a little bit more harshness in his tone than usual, but he really was sick to death of the respect he was getting from the marine he had only known for six months. _I don't even deserve that title. I'm just a relic of times long past._

James shrugged, let his hand fall to his side, "I'm trying my best to remember that," he motioned to the corridor waiting outside, door still opened as he spoke, "I've been assigned to come get you. The Defense Committee wants to see you. Desperately, from what I've heard."

He raised his eyebrows, turning to follow James out the door, and in the first time since he arrived, "Sounds important. Lead the way, Vega."

He followed James through the door and out into the corridor, only to immediately run into one of the officers currently running down the hallway. He muttered quick apologies before turning and continuing his sprint, Marcus merely frowning as he saw Alliance officers and the like running down the corridor like crazed rabbits.

He managed to finally catch up to the bulky marine, his brows fused in a look of severe confusion as he eyed James, matching his steps, "What's going on? Everybody seems to be in a hurry."

James turned to him, a look of severe concern in his features, "Its bad, Shepard. Anderson can explain more. Let's just say that the situation is so bad that they've just declared a DEFCON 1. All the fleets have been mobilized, and the Marine Corps, Army and CEMA are on high alert. SEMA have even begun sending emergency broadcasts globally; the'yve ordered mass evacuations. You should have seen the streets out there Shepard; people are evacuating en masse.

Marcus remembered the children outside. _They don't even know. _He knew exactly what was going on, but it still shocked him, and fear creeped into his mind. _I thought we'd have more time. A year at least, but six months? They've reached us farther than anticipated! I just hope my team has done their jobs..._

He had been about to ask James what the DEFCON was about when they reached an archway at the end of the corridor, where a weary-faced Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson was waiting; his father figure, mentor, ex-N7, and newly instated Rear Admiral. Marcus couldn't help but smile as he reached the admiral. He wanted to hug Anderson, as they're bond was that close, but decided to remain professional, holding out his hand, to which Anderson took and shook eagerly. His expression wasn't as comely, as Marcus expected, but he remained cordial, "You look good Marcus," he shook his head, patting Marcus' gut, "Maybe alittle soft around the edges."

Marcus chuckled lightly, James almost forgotten as he stood there in a salute. Anderson nodded, snapping a crisp salute of his own, or as best he could in his officers' uniform, "As you were Lieutenant. You can follow us, just try and keep up," with the formalities done, his arm fell back down and he waved Marcus to follow him, the two soldiers moving into another intersecting corridor, moving towards a pair of stairs, the flow of officers still relentless as they ran to and from the area, "How have you holding up after being relieved from duty?"

The question took him by surprise, but Marcus answered nonetheless, "Well, my mum came to visit me at one point when she was off duty and finally given permission to do so. Otherwise, it's not so bad after you get used to the hot food and the ridiculously soft beds. You'd think I'm in a hotel suite," he turned to Anderson, the admiral's features worried and creased. He had to ask, "Anderson, that's besides the point. What's going on? Vega tells me we're at DEFCON 1."

"Trouble. I'll give you the short version," Anderson stated bluntly as they began to jog up the steps on their way to the building's conference room, "The entire galaxy lost contact with the Kite's Nest. The batarians mobilized their navy and troops at Khar'Shan and before we know it, three quarters of their navy no longer exists and the Kite's Nest falls to an unknown enemy. Then they...the unknown enemy...started heading for us. We initiated DEFCON 1, and the First and Third Fleets were assigned to protect Arcturus, while the Second, Fourth and Fifth defended Earth, the Sixth and Seventh defended the Exodus Cluster, and the Eighth waits in reserve. Garrong is still here, trying to keep panic from brewing. And to make matters worse, we lost contact with Arcturus Station and the Parliament half an hour ago. Then, Garrong received a message from Netanyahu that Singh and herself had initiated a complete tactical retreat and had left the system to regroup. So now the enemy is bearing down on Earth."

By the time Anderson finished, Marcus had stopped moving, causing James to stop and look at him with a frown, while Anderson stopped as well, slowly turning to meet his eyes, recognition in them. Marcus didn't need to say what they were both thinking, but he said it anyway.

"The Reapers. They're here. They destroyed Arcturus Station, they wiped out the batarians, and now they're coming here. To finish us."

Anderson gave him a scowl, but it was one of internal debate, not scolding, "The Defense Committee is...not quite as convinced. They're in fear, and I think denial is getting to them. They don't want to believe a galactic apocalypse is upon us."

Marcus shook his head, continuing his jog as he passed Anderson, "I'll make them believe. Too many have died to keep batting the bush now."

"Agreed," Anderson stated, moving to jog alongside him, James in tow behind them. They reached the top of the steps, and began moving down a long, large corridor with observation windows giving a beautiful view of Earth and the city of Vancouver outside. Just as they began to move down the hallway, Anderson spoke up again, "You'll need to get the Committee talking Shepard. Especially Fleet Admiral Garrong. He's still not convinced this threat is as you say it is."

He rolled his eyes, "Unless we're planning to talk the Reapers to death, those morons are a waste of time," he kept up his pace, eyes narrowed as he dove his way through the crowds of officers jogging by, "I'd have more luck trying to convince a rock to fight for the galaxy. Garrong should know better than this."

Anderson grabbed his arm, bringing him to a full stop. He turned to face Anderson, who still held firmly on his face as the admiral spoke once more, voice conveying the shock and understanding he felt, "They're just scared, Shepard. The galaxy has never faced an adversary like this before; not even the rachni managed to overwhelm us this quickly. In just four hours, the Batarian Hegemony was in ruins. And in the space of half an hour, two alliance fleets are in full retreat, and Arcturus Station likely destroyed, and our entire government dead. None of them have seen what you've seen. That's why they're so desperate to talk to you; hell, I heard Garrong suggest it. You've faced down a Reaper. Hell, you even _spoke _to one. Then you blew the damn thing up! You've seen how they harvest us; what they plan to do to us. You know our enemy better than anyone."

Anderson moved up ahead, letting go of his arm, allowing Marcus to slowly catch up. Just as Anderson was about to reach a door at the end of the hall though, Marcus spoke up, his mutter turning into loud words full of acid, "Is that why the Committee imprisoned me? Took my ship, painted it in Alliance stripes, and gave it SSV? Is that why my ship no longer belongs to me?"

Anderson whorled around to face him at that, but his face wasn't angry, merely annoyed, "You know that's not bloody true! You handed yourself over, don't forget! And you agreed to have the Normandy impounded!"

"Yes, _impounded, _but not given a new job and affiliation!"

Anderson sighed, shaking his head, as he turned to look at the man he considered a son, "When you blew up the Alpha Relay, three hundred thousand batarians died. Aratoht ceased to exist. I know you did it to delay the Reapers, but they didn't believe you. But now they know you were right, and they need your help. They're terrified. And quite frankly, so am I. None of us have encountered an enemy like this before. Before, humanity's biggest fear was nuclear war. Now we have alot more to worry about than some moron pressing the wrong buttons at a ICBM silo."

Marcus jammed his eyes shut upon hearing about the Bahak Incident again. He had wanted to avoid speaking about that. It was a memory he did not remember fondly, and it had lead to his seperation from his wife, crew and ship. But Anderson had been right; he had handed himself over willingly, and only because of his own guilt. _I murdered every single one of them. And if my squad hasn't prepared the galaxy in some form, their deaths will have truly been for nothing._

But he was quick to defend himself, but it was in a less acidic tone, and more melancholy, "It was either that, or let the Reapers walk in through our backdoor. And Earth would be laid waste to then, not now. I gave our people time to prepare, and the Parliament and the Council squandered it, as per usual. Now we'll all pay the price for their fucking incompetence."

"I couldn't agree more," Anderson replied, motioning to the door near them, "But tell that to the Committee, not me. They're the ones in need of a wake up call."

He nodded, and they both moved towards the door, James moving with them. The door was guarded by two marines, and as they moved inside, Marcus noticed that the female N7 from his trial on Arcturus Station was posted inside, ordering troops around. He gave her a respectful nod, to which she returned within the confines of her helmet, and they moved inside into some kind of reception area, where chairs were stacked.

It was then he heard a familiar voice shout orders at the female N7, "Keeling, make sure the Committee is adequately protected. I don't want anyone getting in or out after we're set up."

"Copy that, Major," she responded, before turning away.

Marcus watched as Kaidan Alenko came into view, one of his best friends, going way back from the days of the Eden Prime War. He wore full alliance combat armor, complete with Navy blue and white finish, and he saw the golden bars of a Major in the Marine Corps etched onto his armor's shoulder pieces, the soldier obviously having had a promotion. He smiled at Kaidan as they approached, and the soldier returned it in kind, helmet pinned under one arm.

"Shepard," Kaidan greeted, taking Marcus in a friendly handshake before pulling back, "Didn't think I'd see you here. I thought you'd be out, back in our ranks, and leading troops around. Or at least, that would have happened if Anderson had his way."

Marcus grinned at the admiral, who merely shrugged before turning back to Kaidan, eyebrow raised, "So, Major now is it? Where did that promotion come from?"

Kaidan grinned, rubbing the back of his neck, "Necessity, don't worry. Although I'm a Major now, and in temporary command of the Normandy, so at least no greedy bastard is getting his hands on your ship. I've been keeping her warmed up for you," he jabbed a thumb at the door at the end of the hall, "Just...be careful in there. I've never seen them so scared before. Even Garrong seemed a bit...twitchy, I'll admit. Deliver the hard words, but steer clear of talk on Arcturus Station. That was a real blow to the Alliance."

_Losing our government, and four hundred thousand people? Not to mention the countless hundreds serving aboard warships that no longer exist? I can imagine. _He patted Kaidan's shoulder, squeezing it, "It'll be fine, Kaidan. I'll be fine. You just be ready for anything. If intelligence is right, the Reapers will be heading for Earth next. Be ready when they do. And it was good to see you again."

Kaidan nodded, stepping to the side, snapping a salute, "Likewise, Shepard," he dropped his hand, smiling, "Good luck." He quickly turned to James, holding out his arm out and shaking his head, causing the Lieutenant to stop dead in his tracks, "Oh no you don't. That's a classified conference meeting in there. You'll be lining up with the rest of us jarheads. Get to your locker and stow your weapons and armor. You'll be with Keeling's platoon."

Marcus barely heard the conversation as he followed Anderson into the conference room.

The room seemed to be one of deathly silence; so much so, it almost deafened him. As they moved into the center of the massive complex, they could see the numerous vidscreens along the walls, displaying news reports on the CNN and the Galaxy Wide News about the sudden Reaper invasion, although the name Reaper was not mentioned. Behind them was a massive vidscreen covering the entire wall, but it was currently blank, with the feed at the top right saying 'Disconnected.' A desk sat on the left, where a ginger-haired woman in alliance uniform stood, and a huge table sat at the back of the room where a massive observation window allowed a clear view of Vancouver around them; it was currently where the Defense Committee sat, along with Garrong sitting in the middle.

Upon seeing them enter, Garrong immediately spoke, all members coming to stand as Anderson and Marcus both saluted the Fleet Admiral of the Navy. Garrong nodded to both, telling them to be at ease before speaking, "This session is now officially classified. All monitoring devices are to be switched off immediately. Let this session begin," all members present sat, with the exception of Anderson and Marcus, who merely stood in the middle of the room.

As the room came to be quiet, Garrong eyed Marcus with a calm, steady gaze and narrowed eyes. When he was done surveying him he spoke, his voice speaking of defeat in the years of experience he had in the Alliance military, "I...Shepard, this Committee, and myself, find ourselves in desperate need of your help. We're facing the biggest threat we've ever encountered. The batarians are finished. No use trying to ask them for help; Khar'Shan has likely already fallen. And now Arcturus Station is laid to ruin, our leadership murdered, and two of my fleets are now limping away with lots of broken bones. They barely got out of there with their lives. Admiral Singh even told me over the comms, to quote, 'I've never encountered anything like it. They had broken the spine of my fleet within ten minutes, followed by Adina's moments after, and that had only been the screening force.'" He faced Marcus, leaning back and wiping his brow, "Shepard, just what the hell are we facing here?"

"Yes, we've lost contact with every beyond the Sol Relay," one woman on the Committee stated.

"Whatever it is, it must be incomprehensibly powerful," one man gasped.

Marcus shook his head, hold up a hand to deny one woman who had been handing him a datapad, and his eyes met those of all the Committee members, especially Garrong, "I don't need to see the reports to know just what enemy we face. Its the same enemy I've warned you about for three years. The same one you thought had been swept under the rug and forgotten. But Harbinger hasn't forgotten, and now he is here, and he is only giving you a taste-tester of what's to come," his eyes finally landed on Garrong's, "I'll tell you what you already know. The Reapers are here."

Murmurs of descent entered the room, and he picked out choice sentences. "He was right." "They're here." "What, like Sovereign?" "God save us."

Garrong managed to bring order in the room with a wave of his hand, and he eyed Marcus for a few more moments before giving in with a exhale of breath and, in a surprising moment of defeat, took off his cap, placed it on the table's surface and let his head fall into his hands. As he spoke, his voice had lost the strength that it had once had, "For once, Shepard, I'm going to say it. You were right. You were always goddamn right, and we were bloody fools not to see it. Now we've dug our graves, and the Reapers have come to push us in," he inhaled, worried eyes coming to meet Marcus', "So I'm going to ask you; what the hell do we do? How do we stop them?"

In a moment of confusion, Marcus laughed. Everyone looked at him with angry glares and some of misunderstanding, and Garrong looked as humorless as usual, but when Marcus finally wiped the smile off his face, he stood forward, seriousness in his expression, "Stop them? Have you been fucking listening? This isn't about strategy or tactics, this is about survival! The Reapers are simply more advanced than we are. More powerful. More intelligent. They don't feel fear, their ships could chop ours like a axe does wood, and they know the mass relays and the Citadel inside and out. They won't accept surrender; they will not stop until every single one of us is wiped from bloody _existence. _They won't blow us back to the stone age; they'll send us into the jaws of death, only to snap them shut. They are every nightmare you've ever had. They aren't an enemy that can be fought, but merely one you run from."

The Committee looked desperate for answers, and the woman spoke once more, her grey hair tied in a bun ontop of her head, "But...there must be some way!"

He turned to her, no pity in his eyes. _If you had listened three years ago, maybe you'd be fucking ready. Maybe, you wouldn't be shitting your pants right now. _No words came to him in that moment, and he knew that no inspirational speeches belonged here; only cold hard facts.

"You want a way? Fight or you _die. _That's the only way _any _of us will survive. We fight them, we destroy them, or they'll destroy us. I'm not about to give you the Sun Tzu; I don't know their tactics, or their weaknesses. Only that they believe us inferior, and will not take pity on us. Ever. Fight or you _die. _That's the plan. How's that sound?"

Garrong stood up from his seat, glaring angrily as he spoke to Marcus in a booming tone, "We want answers, not speeches! Is that your plan? Because right now, you've helped us diddely squat! How the hell do we fight them!?"

Marcus moved to respond, stepping forward with balled up fists. Before he could however, the orange haired female stood forward, reading off a datapad. When she looked up, she spoke to the infuriated Garrong, her voice full of terror, "Admiral we..w...we just lost contact with...with Luna Base."

All eyes turned to her, and only Anderson's shocked, "The moon? They can't have gotten that close already!" could be heard in the room as silence took over. Garrong's anger faded and he quickly sat down, all eyes landing on Anderson as he spoke again, "We would have heard from Hackett if the Reapers had gotten that close. Why haven't we heard from his fleet, Drescher's and Arefyev's?"

The woman with a bun stood up, her eyes conveying her denial as she shouted, "Poposterous! They can't possibly have breached our defenses! We have three whole _fleets _up there, along with Jump Zero and our orbital defense platforms!"

The woman spoke again, terror ever evident, "Sir!" she yelled, "We've just received a communique from the Defense Committee in London! They have a visual! Transmitting now."

All eyes turned to the massive screen above, and watched as it came to life, displaying real time data instantly. They watched as blood instantly splattered the screen, followed by the screams of panicking civilians and the familiar airhorns of Reapers in the background. The sound never failed to send a shudder down his spine. They continued to watch as a British soldier dressed in the Alliance blue and white picked up his dead comrade's helmet and held the visor near his face, showing the panic on it. They could see a severed skyscraper in the middle, along with what looked to be three Reapers, exactly the same as Sovereign in shape, size and design, dotting the landscape, firing their thanix cannons into London's streets, with one being literally right over the soldier. They watched in the distance as a gunship flew by, only to be destroyed as what he recognized as an Oculus, a Reaper fighter that was spherical in shape, flew by and destroyed it with its own particle beam.

The soldier spoke, terror in his voice as the sounds of gunfire, explosions and sirens sounded in the area around him, "Buckingham Palace is _gone! _The Parliament, everyone, dead! London has fallen to an unknown enemy! They overwhelmed our defenses! We cannot hold them! We can't-" Marcus heard a familiar moan and the soldier turned in time to watch as a husk, followed by four more, barrelled into him, the husk clasping its mouth around his throat. The soldier screamed, "ARGH!" before the visual changed to multiple other news outlets, showing Reapers landing all over the world. Marcus recognized all the locations in an instant.

Berlin. Moscow. Tokyo. Beijing. Bahgdad. Gaza. Tela Aviv. Washington D.C. Los Angeles. Denver. Phoenix. London. Paris. Amsterdam. Athens. Belgrade. Brussels. Budapest. Madrid. Luxembourg. Prague. Kiev. Rome. San Francisco. Every single one of them came under Reaper attack, and he watched as a Reaper Destroyer climbed onto the Eiffel Tower, tearing it apart with a thanix cannon blast, followed by the destruction of the Kremlin in Russia.

"Sir!" the woman spoke again, "Russia, wait, Israel too! And China! And India! And Britain! Sir, they've all gone nuclear! They're preparing to launch every nuclear weapon they have!"

Garrong immediately stood, cheeks going red as he shouted, "Stop them! Stop them no-"

"Wait," the woman stopped, and her look turned into even bigger horror, "That can't be. Sir, it seems the Reapers are actually landing forces _right ontop _of the silos and have...taken the missiles. They can't go nuclear!"

"Those nukes could have dealt a blow to the Reapers," Marcus told him, eying him, "Which is why they're so desperate to make sure they're neatralized as a threat."

"Bloody hell!" Garrong cursed.

"You know what to do," Marcus told him, moving forward and pointing at the screen where a Japanese reporter was now speaking, in Japanese of course, a picture of Tokyo being ravaged by Reapers in the background, "Fight or die. That's the choice. Make sure you choose wisely, because even as we speak, Earth is falling."

Garrong looked defeated, without anything else to say. But before they could speak, Marcus felt a presence in his mind. A familiar, dreaded presence. One that filled him with fear and disgust, hatred and agony. He had felt in the Prothean beacons with Sovereign, but this one was different; he had felt it in his fight with the Collectors, and during his battle on the Project Asteroid. He recognized it well, and he knew it was close. _No..._

"Shepard?" Garrong asked, voice laced with acid, "Are you even bloody listening to me?"

He turned to the Committee, and was about to shout them for them to get down when a loud, familiar airhorn was heard, the sound shattering the glass of the windows behind them instantly and sending it showering all over the Committee members. Garrong and all of them turned towards the source, and Marcus as the six-kilometer tall form of Harbinger landed in the Fraser River, the impact sending a tremor through the ground, its orange eyes looking into his own, and legs stretched out.

_**"Shepard," **_it boomed across the city towards him, as if it was able to see him, and even now, he saw three of its thanix cannons charging up, _**"Your time is at an end. You will be harvested."**_

It musn't be in his head, but Garrong seemed to widen his eyes at the Reapers' words, "My god...god save us..." he was frozen in fear.

Harbinger seemed to hear him, "_**Your god will not save you. He will end you." **_And with that, its thanix cannons fired, all aimed at the Defense Committee building.

Marcus felt the heat impact his face as he was thrown away like a rag doll by the sheer force of the blast, his body barrelling into Anderson's as they were both sent flying into the wall, and went tumbling onto the ground. The Defense Committee, Garrong and everyone else shared a similiar fate, except Marcus merely watched as the Defense Committee was practically vaporized by the impact of the shot hitting the conference room, with Garrong managing to evacuate in time to only be thrown into one of the vidscreens, and to plop down on the ground, unmoving.

The red haired woman tried to run, only to be torn to bloody ribbons as the table splintered and fell apart, sending splinters shooting forward like bullets, all of them riddling her body as she fell to the ground in a bloody mess. As Marcus' vision began to blur and he lay motionless on the ground, all he saw was the shattered glass littering the ground, the flames licking at the broken interior of the building, and the many dead bodies around the room.

He heard a voice calling his name, but he merely recognized it, as his ears were ringing. Popping one, heard his name fully this time, and recognized Anderson's voice. He felt himself quickly helped to his feet, and Anderson was in his face, his uniform torn in multiple places, ripped and some of his officers' bars having fallen off. He had a large cut across his forehead, but ignored it as he picked up the predator pistol of a dead marine, handing it to Marcus as he equipped his own carnifex, "We need to get moving. Check the room; see if anyone's alive. I'll try and raise Alenko and the Normandy."

Marcus nodded, quickly checking the chamber of his pistol was full before he began searching the room, checking for pulses. To his disappointment and regret, noone had survived the attack, and he wasn't surprised. Harbinger's thanix shot had absolutely gutted the room, with the kinetically powered shell only ending once it had cut through the conference room, the reception area behind that and the end of the corridor near by. The room was a mangled, unrecognizable mess when he was done.

He finally came upon Garrong's limp form, who seemed to be stirring. He rushed over and rolled Garrong's body over, and immediately saw the damage. The front part of his uniform was seemingly gone, with a large, piece of blackened muscle in the middle where skin used to be, blood oozing from the wound, the skin around the gaping hole blackened to the point of absolute darkness. His face was several different shades of pink, and he was blood leaking from his mouth. Marcus quickly made a move to apply medi-gel, only for Garrong to grab him around the collar and pull him forward. He looked into his eyes, those eyes that had sent him to prison, eyes now filled with terror and, simultaneously, a fierceness he didn't feel. When he spoke, it was ragged, but intelligible, "Stop...them...save Earth...no matter...the cost...do not...let them...win. You're...humanity's...leader now," and with that Garrong's breathing stopped, and his hand fell from Marcus' collar, body going limp as his head lulled backwards and impacted the ground, eyes gazing blankly at the ceiling; the life drained from them.

Marcus sighed, using his hand to close the Admiral's eyes. Another death in the growing war. _And its only just begun. Hackett must be dead too; if the Reapers got to Earth, the fleets up above must be gone. _He remembered just who Arefyev's flagship was captained by. _Mum...no...you can't be...I'm not jumping to conclusions! She's still alive, I know she is! She's a Shepard!_

Anderson came to his side, and Marcus got up, standing and facing Anderson as the admiral solemnly nodded, "I've tried contacting Alenko and the Normandy. There's too much going on and the Reapers must be jamming us. Our only hope at the moment is to get the hell out of here. No doubt this building will be overrun with husks soon, and we'd best not be here when they turn up."

Sparing Garrong's body one last look, Marcus followed Anderson out to the observation window, where even the frames for it had melted away. Harbinger, obviously believing them dead, had now turned to the otherside of the city, on the otherside of the river, and he watched in awe as the Leader of the Reapers charged up six different thanix cannons and fired them into the city, gutting four skyscrapers, and incinerating two streets worth of civilians down below. _Even Sovereign only had two thanix cannons. Harbinger is so powerful..._

He turned, wondering where the other two shots he had fired had gotten too, and saw two more quickly large holes in the building's structure. Looking down, he saw they towered over the city, and it would be a long way down. Turning to Anderson, he merely nodded, pointing to what looked to be some pipes and they leapt down, the city burning around them.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1149 hours._

_Security Facility, Systems Alliance Defense Committee Vancouver Facility, Vancouver, United North American States, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Earth._

_Marcus Shepard, Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson. _

The city was in ruins, and in chaos. Two more Reaper capital ships had landed soon after Harbinger, along with three more on Harbinger's side of the river. He watched in the distance as skyscrapers crumbled, skycars were shot out of the sky, kodiaks blown up, and people ran screaming in the streets, desperately trying to escape the carnage. It was a literal bloodbath.

A Reaper airhorn tore through the air as Marcus and Anderson slid down a piece of the ruined building, moving towards what looked to be the Security Facility; where a ladder would take them to the building connected to them; a Safrax Industries skyscraper that hadn't yet been damaged. Smoke clogged the air around them, and fires raged around them as they moved along.

"Marcus, I'm getting a signal," Anderson declared, and they both stopped, lowering their pistols slightly as Anderson spoke into his open omni-tool, "Normandy, this is Rear Admiral Anderson, do you read?"

"This is...Major...lenko, we...you. Got Lieut...ga with me, and Keeling. The Reap...got to...shit, evasive...!"

"When can you pick us up? Are with the Normandy?"

"Cop...that," Kaidan replied over the radio, the static almost unbearable, and he could hear the sound of Joker cursing in the background as he avoided the rays of death spat at him by the Reapers below, "We'...assisting the ev...tion. Cannot...too much...just flying around. Anderson, you need-" then, just as quickly as he came up, he disappeared, and Anderson cursed silently to himself.

Turning to Marcus, he motioned to the security bunker up ahead, "Come on, we have to keep moving. There's a harbor down near the river where the Normandy can pick us up."

Just as they turned to continue, they watched an alliance interceptor shoot past, pursued by two Oculi. The interceptor was hit by two particle bursts, that sent it careening into the nearest skyscraper, with it basically exploded with the impact. The building groaned but did not fall, and the two Oculi seemed to move on. Shaking his head solemnly, Marcus merely continued on, Anderson not far behind.

Just as they reached a ladder reaching down to the security building, they both heard a familiar, but shiver-inducing, group of moans. Turning back left, they watched as a group of seven husks leapt down by one of the buildings, and started sprinting at them, jaws open wide and showing mangled, blackened human teeth. Both men turned and fired their weapons, and they managed to drop the mindless creatures with relative ease, allowing them to slide down the ladder and continue.

They found the security bunker in one piece, with tinted glass windows and a sealed door. Anderson moved up to it, beginning to hack it with his omni-tool while Marcus moved over to the railing, and looked down below. He saw a sight he wished he hadn't. Hundreds of men, women and children fled down below, and pursuing them was a horde of husks, hungry and demanding something to kill, driven on by the instinct the Reapers honed into them. _Some of those people will become husks themselves. Others will just be killed. If I had to choose, I'd rather the latter. Anything's better than becoming...becoming __**those things.**_

The same moans he had come to dread sounded nearby, and looked to the source, only to widen his eyes as he saw four husks climb through the railing and head straight for Anderson. Before Marcus could shout a warning, the admiral had swung around, omni-blade alight, and sliced the head clean off one of the husks, followed another swipe to the second one's legs, chopping them off. Turning to the last two, he was about to finish them when Marcus' predator barked, downing both, before killing the legless one on the ground. Anderson nodded his thanks, before pressing a single button on his omni-tool, opening the door instantly.

"Come on, we have to keep going. Can't stay here."

Marcus nodded, finding nearby thermal clips on a dead marine and relieving her of them, before closing her eyes and stuffing the spare clips in his pocket, using one to reload his pistol. They both moved inside, both hearing only deathly silence in the building; that, and the screaming of people down below, the echoes of gunfire and explosions outside, the constant report of the Reapers' many thanix cannons and of course their occassional airhorn.

Moving over to another door, they managed to open it, only to find the other half of the building _wasn't _undamaged. Two large steel beams had collapsed from the ceiling and slammed into the ground, displacing some of the tiles where they impacted and flames licked at the area inbetween them. Anderson, grunting, holstered his pistol quickly and moved under one steel beam, pressing his weight into it to lift it, but only managing to lift it slightly. Knowing he was stronger, Marcus took the beam and picked it up, throwing it away, giving them a path to the next. Anderson nodded his thanks, shaking his head, "This is a goddamn mess. Every minute those machines are here, thousands of innocent people die. I won't be held responsible for this. I did everything I could to warn them, so did you. So did your crew. So did Hackett and your mother. Noone listened. None. And now we've brought this upon us."

Marcus shook his head, both of them sidestepping the flames on the ground to reach the next beam, the both of them lifting it and tossing it aside before clearing the path and moving on. The ground up ahead had caved in, and they would have to use the sides to sidestep to the other side, but they could do it. Marcus, in response to Anderson's statement, merely shook his head, hardly believing the words that came out of his mouth, "You can't be held responsible for the ones who die. We fight for the ones left standing when this is all over." _Did I just say that? What part of me died when I dictated that those who die are to be forgotten and ignored? _

Anderson merely nodded, moving to stand on the edge of the caved platform and beginning to sidestep to the other side, quickly joined by Marcus, "They hit so fast. I thought we'd have more time," Marcus commented.

Anderson shook his head, looking at him with mild agreement. He moved to open his mouth, but stopped just as he was about to stumble and fall. Marcus grabbed hold of him, pulling him back up, and the admiral nodded his thanks, speaking again as he remained still, "What you need to do is go to the Citadel. Talk to the Council."

Marcus scoffed, "The Citadel? _Talk to the Council? _What help will those morons be? I'm done trying to convince them of anything. The fight is on Earth, not on a space station in the middle of nowhere. I can't leave."

Anderson shook his head, and they continued across the gap, "The fight will be everywhere soon enough. You said it yourself; the Reapers will wipe out all life in the galaxy if we don't stop them. Khar'Shan, Earth...we're only the beginning. Many more worlds will fall if we don't find a way to defeat these bastards. And it all starts with you talking some damn sense to the Council," he leapt across the gap, landing on the other side, and was quickly joined by Marcus, who nodded as he pat himself down. A blast shook the building, causing Marcus to almost fall off the edge, but Anderson pulled him up.

"Thanks. I owe you one."

"I don't. That made up for earlier. Come on."

They reached a shattered window frame, where they watched a skyscraper burning in the background, accompanied by the rumble and eventual collapse of the one next to it; steel, concrete and people collapsing to the ground, fires ablaze in the streets. They watched three kodiaks fly by, the roar of their engines reverbrating the room they stood in. Marcus, leaning over, spotted a landing three meters below and jumped down, followed by Anderson.

He chanced a look up, and Marcus felt his breath taken away; not in awe, but sheer horror. The sky seemed to be falling; jets of orange light shooting from the sky to land on the ground, the orange flames evaporating as they passed the clouds to reveal themselves to be Reapers. All over the city they landed, including types he didn't recognize, including a crab/scorpion like Reaper that was far smaller than the capital ships; these ones were roughly 160 meters in height, putting them at a total standing of 524 feet in total height. _They're huge, but by Reaper standards, so small..._

They rained from above, impacting the ground with a tremor before they emerged, raining death on the area around them, knocking skyscrapers aside as they moved their goliath legs. One of the smaller ones landed in the river, sending a gigantic stream of water shooting up into the air, before the mechanized starship stood to its full height and climbed up onto the harbor, before walking away and disappearing into the city.

As Marcus and Anderson approached a large platform, with the harbor being roughly 100 meters below them, they both fell to the ground as a Reaper capital ship landed in the river, a massive quake ripping through the area and shaking the building, causing it to groan and creak. They looked up to see the gigantic monolith standing over them, easily towering over the tallest building, and communicating in high-pitched electronic screeches, mechanical whirs, and the familiar airhorn. Oculi danced around it, and as he watched, it launched multiple orange streaks of light, obviously pods, into the city, where they crashed, and husks spilled out of them. _That's how they managed to deploy them so quickly._

It seemed to stand in the river, and Marcus found his attention drawn back to Harbinger, who had now left the river and stomped into the city on the otherside of the river, a trail of destroyed buildings left crushed or destroyed, its many beams blowing multiple fighters out of the air, while simultaneously raining death around it. Ignoring the Reaper now towering over them, Anderson and Marcus got back to their feet, raised their pistols, and continued for the nearby platform, hoping they weren't spotted.

Only to stop again as the Reaper in the river let out a hyper-electronic screech, the impact of a MAC round bouncing harmlessly off its kinetic barriers; its shields shimmering. The sound of the MAC cannon had left both their ears ringing, and as they looked up, both of them were flabbergasted to see a Systems Alliance Battleship, the SSV Olympic, sitting over the city, its many weapons; missiles, point defense lasers, ICBMs, javelin torpedoes and its rotary cannons desperately tore into the Reaper's shielding, trying to deal damage, but failing. Marcus recognized the vessel; it had been part of the Fourth Fleet. _Well we know what happened to them, then._

"A battleship?" Anderson asked, confused, "Those ships aren't rated for atmosphere."

Marcus watched as the Reaper lifted one leg out of the air, a jet of water coming out with it before it thrusted the leg back in, parting it as the Reaper began to slowly turn and face the warship, "And will be a deadship very soon. We've got to get to the other side. That Reaper is about to cut into that ship."

Anderson nodded, and they both sprinted towards the edge of the platform, and were about to make a run for a stairwell leading down to the harbor when they both heard the familiar boom of the Reaper main gun, and they both looked up in time to see a bolt of red energy slam into the battleship's shields, breach them in seconds, and then tear into the ship. They could only watch as the heavy, 100 megaton slug tore the vessel wide open from bow to stern, and its eezo core detonated, consuming it in a blash of brilliant blue that was so powerful he had to cover his eyes. When he opened them again, he only saw the massive shockwave from the explosion that hit the already unstable platform they stood on...

...causing it to cave in below them, and sending Marcus and Anderson sliding down a piece of bulkhead and steel supports to land in the harbor below. Marcus' head bumped against a piece of bulkhead on his way down, and he felt a bruise already forming on his forehead as he slammed, stomach first, onto the ground, winding him. Anderson landed nearby not long later, and Marcus merely looked up weakly, his blurred vision watching as what was left of the battleship collapsed into the city below, its stern bashing aside one skyscraper, before crushing another. Shaking his head to let his vision clear up, Marcus fumbled for the pistol he had dropped, finding it covered in dust next to a collapsed, yellow crane.

Slowly hopping to his feet, he picked it up and ignored the sore bruise on his head, the injury throbbing incesantly. _If I hadn't had my cybernetics, that hit would have killed me. Would have cracked my skull wide open._

Standing on both feet, he moved over and held out his hand, helping Anderson to his own feet and allowing him to retrieve his weapon. Looking up, he saw the Reaper turning away, before his eyes locked onto the harbor itself.

It was a bloody mess; it looked like a nuclear bomb had just flattened the place. Fallen cranes lay all over the place, the walls of buildings and structures covering the ground, creating a mismatch of many different disjointed ground blocks. Dust covered them, while others were scorched from the heat of a thanix cannon hitting them. He noticed a few crashed fighters, what looked to be a few destroyed skycars, a crashed shuttle, and just near the water's edge, a crashed A-67 Mantis Gunship. The harbor itself; the decking in the water, looked unharmed, and most of the boats and even a cargo ship, still lay in port.

As they moved forward and towards the crashed gunship, they heard pained cries, along with soothing words, the voices indicating males. Marcus, sharing a glance with Anderson, quietly moved over and looked down, seeing what looked to be a artificial creek of water that had splashed in, the gap covered by the dismembered part of a crane. But stuck under that dismembered part was the leg of an alliance officer, a pilot by the look of his helmet, and his uniform was torn and bloodied. The man next to him was sitting in a crouch, applying medi-gel with his omni-tool. Seeing that the close was clear and he saw no husks nearby, he leapt to land near them, Anderson quickly joining him.

"You okay, pilot?" Marcus asked, and both men turned to him, the pilot in the process of biting back a cry of agony as his leg was slowly crushed by the crane part. By the looks of it, the sheer size would mean that his bone would be cracked, or even crushed. The officer tending him shook his head, turning back to him.

"No sir, he most certainly isn't. Getting shot down was bad enough, but now his leg is trapped, and I haven't been able to get him out."

"I told you, just leave me," the pilot ordered, hissing through his clenched teeth, "Those damn...creatures, will be here soon, and better they kill me than both of us. I ain't going anywhere in a hurry, so what's the point. Just make it quick. And preferrably painless."

A Reaper screech in the background, and Marcus crouched next to him, laying a hand on the pilot's shoulder, squeezing it, which grabbed his attention as he looked into the man's eyes, "You're not dead yet, pilot. This war is only just beginning, and the Alliance isn't done with you yet. We serve until we're no longer needed, you here? What's the Navy's motto?"

The pilot sighed, shaking his head and muttering, "What was that?"

The pilot spoke louder, with more confidence in his voice, but still with the lace of pain hidden behind it, "Serve until you're needed no more. Even in death, you can serve."

"Damn right," Marcus enforced. _Forgot to mention that that motto is more for morale, than realism. Being dead means your dead. Anderson taught me that when I ignorantly joined the Navy. Even after that, I still signed up, _"Which means we're going to get this damn thing off of you, and you're getting out of here," he turned to look at the soldier next to him, "Where's your vehicle, trooper?"

"Over there," he shakingly pointed, obviously scared. Marcus was surprised to see his finger land on the crashed gunship, "He was the pilot. I was the gunner. We got shot by one of those...dragon like creatures. We tried to make it across this gap, but once we did, one of the tremors brought a crane down, and part of it landed on his leg. And now...here we are."

"Don't worry, we'll get you out of here," Anderson assured them, moving over to the other side of the crane. Marcus nodded, holstering his pistol and helping lift it. Once lifted, they hung it in the air until the pilot could pull his leg from under it before dropping it again. They both grunted with the effort, slapping their hands together to clear the dirt as they joined again, pistols in their hands. The pilot nodded his thanks, before Marcus turned to Anderson.

"We need to keep going. Their gunship could have a working radio. The Reapers can't jam that."

Anderson nodded his approval of the plan, quickly checking the thermal clip counter on his carnifex before turning back to him, lowering the weapon, "Alright. But we need to work fast. The Reapers are working quickly, and this city will soon fall. We need to-"

An unfamiliar, but very horrific, electronic screech sounded through the harbor. He knew it wasn't a husk, or a Reaper, as it wasn't loud enough for the latter, and husks didn't screech. And as they both turned, Marcus and Anderson saw a group of seven creatures they had never even seen before.

They were ugly, and definitely of Reaper origin, that was for sure. They had obviously once been something else, if the dried out looking skin and cybernetic and synthetic implants all over their bodies were any indication. Their backs were a dark orange, black and brown in color, mixing into a disgusting hybrid as said back warped the body and even rose in height, moving to cover and actually merge with the back of the head, making their bodies seem like a body with a face. They waddled as they jogged towards them from the flames, and they had long, stubby legs, and incredibly thick arms, with their right holding what looked to be some kind of assault rifle of Reaper design molded into their arm, and aimed forwards. And as he looked at the face...oh god, their faces...

They were tormented faces; ones that were no longer organic or remotely sentient. Their mouths were stretched ridiculously low, and they had four eyes, two on the left and right, all aligned vertically, with a glowing at the front of their temple. All of these emitted an intense, perputual blue glow, and it showed even more as they screeched. And what shocked Marcus the most wasn't how they looked, but who they looked like. The four eyes, the mouth, the overall body structure...

_"...The batarians mobilized their navy and troops at Khar'Shan and before we know it, three quarters of their navy no longer exists and the Kite's Nest falls to an unknown enemy..."_

His eyes widened in realization. _No, not husks, _he mused, _batarian husks...those were once batarians..._

Another screech, followed by a flurry of fire. Marcus immediately leapt behind a steel beam, remembering he had no shields, followed by Anderson, who had his carnifex steadied in both hands. The admiral turned to him, apparently coming to the same conclusion, "You saw those things? They looked like-"

"-batarians. I know," Marcus gulped, "Now we know what the Reapers did to them."

"Poor bastards. Noone deserves that, not even those SOBs," Anderson cursed as another burst pinged off their cover and he leapt from it, taking aim with his small hand cannon and firing, his shot connecting with the batarian husk and blowing through its mouth, tearing apart its cybernetically upgraded brain and causing it to just tumble to the ground, dead. The other six reacted fast, opening fire on Anderson, but Marcus quickly joined the defense. His predator coughed four times, two of them connecting with the belly of one abomination, before the next two shots hit its face and killed it. The other five attempted to keep them pinned with a non-stop assault of gunfire, but it didn't work, and the two of them managed to sneak left and rise up, using what time they had in the distraction to take down as many of the things as possible. Which was all of them. With the battle over, they reloaded, turning to each other.

"I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of them. Still, its kinda new having husks actually carrying guns for a change," Marcus pointed out, shaking his head as he slammed a fresh thermal clip into the chamber of his pistol.

One of the men behind them spoke, "We got word from some of the other systems they came in that they devoured the flesh of dead men to regenerate themselves," he stated, "It was horrific."

"Cannibals," Anderson declared, turning to Marcus, "They're cannibals."

Nodding with agreement, Marcus faced the two men, pointing to the gunship, "You two stay here and try to remain scarce. We're going to go the gunship to radio for evac."

Both of them simply nodded, not making a sound. Turning back to the crane part, both himself and Anderson walked across it, making their way to the other side where they equally wheeled around and moved to find a way into the gunship, moving around the left side.

A few more cannibals, and some husks, were deployed infront of them, and it took some time before both of them cleared the enemy and moved on, and they both had a feeling that wasn't the end of their new enemies. Just as they moved down a slope towards a clearing where the gunship lay, they heard another kind of screech, and looking up, saw a great winged beast, with a cannon fused into its mouth, two eyes on stalks, and great wings propelling it through the air with each flap. They had obviously been another type of creature, now twisted by Reaper tech, and Marcus immediately recognized it as one of the Harvesters he had encountered on Tuchanka when helping Grunt with his Rite of Passage. _Damn, they make husks out of animals too? What's next, cybernetically enhanced varren?_

He heard twin screams coming from the two men they had left behind as the Harvester pounded their position with high-velocity plasma bursts, and Marcus had almost run over to their position before Anderson reminded him how moot it was. They were gone, and there was nothing they could do but continue. Reluctantly, he turned, and they moved into the wreck.

The gunship was barely recognizable, with its nose seeminly fused with the ground. The bodies of three marines lay about, one of them with an avenger assault rifle in his dead grip. Moving over to his body, he said a silent prayer for the man before holstering his pistol and relieving him of his rifle, finding a few grenades and tossing them to Anderson, who caught them easily. Checking the chamber was full, Marcus lowered his newly found assault rifle, turning to Anderson as the admiral crouched before a radio, one the marines must have been trying to use before being overwhelmed, judging the cannibal corpses also among them.

The holographic interface lit up bright orange, and Anderson was quick to speak, "SSV Normandy, this is Rear Admiral Anderson. Do you read? Moreau, Alenko, anyone? If you can hear this, we're down in the harbor, near the Defense Committee facility. We need immediate evac. Enemy forces are converging, and the area is hot. Repeat again, requesting immediate extraction. How copy?"

The response was Kaidan's voice, so hurried that it was obvious the Normandy was currently engaged, "This is Major Alenko, we copy you. You're in the harbor, you say? We read you. Is Shepard with you?"

Anderson smiled. _That crew's loyalty knows no bounds, _"He's fine; and kicking ass. He really hasn't gotten old. Or soft."

He heard Marcus chuckle softly, glad to relieve himself with some form of humor, however misplaced, "If anything, six months locked up has just left me with some irritated rage that I've needed to vent. Husks are perfect for that sort of thing."

"We copy you," Kaidan chuckled half-heartedly, before shouting, "Damn it, Joker!"

"I'm flying as best I can, but this damn bugger won't get off our tail! He's damn persistent! EDI-" then the comms went to static and Anderson cursed loudly, slamming the thing with his fists as the radio died.

"Damn it, radio's dead."

Marcus shrugged his shoulders as the admiral came to stand, "They know where we are now. They'll come for us. The Normandy always does."

The sound of rumbling thunder answered them as multiple pods slammed into the area behind them, causing them both to look at the source in a hurry. Out of the smoke came numerous cannibals and a few husks.

"Well they better," Anderson declared, priming a grenade and then throwing, "Because we're about to get busy."

The grenade detonated just as Marcus reached cover, the explosion tearing apart two of the approaching cannibals. The rest simply opened up on them, pouring everything they had into killing these two individuals. Their assault was absolutely relentless, but seemed entirely focused on Anderson; that was, until Marcus peeked over, assault rifle raised and spat a few bursts into a flanking cannibal, downing it, and causing the enemy fire to shift focus onto him, and he crouched back into cover. _They're aren't much more intelligent than normal husks. Their tactics are fundamental, and they don't have any organization, battle order or command structure. They rely on sheer numbers, which is our one advantage over them. That, and they aren't biotics..._

With a grin, he summoned his dark energy powers, his body enveloped in blue, liquid fire as he stepped out and shot his fist forward, sending a massive cascade of dark energy towards their enemy in a colossal shockwave. It hit the cannibals with the force of a freight train, cutting a straight line through their ranks like a knife does butter, and sending them either flying into the water, or flying into walls; either way, it severely weakened their numbers.

Only for those numbers to be replenished as more pods landed, returning their strength to full. With a growl, Marcus crawled back into cover, but not more putting two bursts into a charging cannibal and reloading, "These damn things will overrun our position fast."

Anderson nodded his agreement, tossing another grenade at the enemy and waiting for its detonation, before thinning out their ranks a little more by claiming three, clean headshots on three of the enemy foot soldiers, downing them quickly before he rushed back into cover, eying Marcus, "You're right. We simply can't keep this up, and we're running short on clips."

_What I'd do for a good old weapon of 2183. I hate thermal clips. _

Without answering, he stood up and launched another biotic assault, this time forming a singularity in their ranks, causing all of them to be sucked from the ground and pulled in, killing them very quickly, before the gravity well exploded, ripping the cannibals apart. And before you knew it, more pods landed, but instead of cannibals emerging, a far more memorable sort of enemy appeared. Or she he say, _enemies._

First came the glowing husk, the ones he had come to know as Abominations, who weren't the ordinary husk; they exploded once they were close enough. Then came the Scion; the size of a krogan, with the armor of one, and the cannon that fired biotic shockwaves with the force of a claymore shotgun. And then one single Praetorian; a large vehicle made out of dozens of fused husks, with glowing, purple eyes capable of delivering powerful beams of death, along with the ability to fly. He had enough experiences fighting these things, and quickly hissed as the Praetorian fired its beams into his cover, followed by the Scions. He made sure to focus on the abominations, not letting them get close.

"What are those things!" Anderson exclaimed, "More husks?"

"You could say that," Marcus replied, "I encountered them during my mission against the Collectors; apparently the Reapers gave them to them to use in their war to abduct human colonies. I've fought my fair share, but I didn't think the Reapers still made them."

"My shots are just pinging off its shield!" Anderson informed him, firing his carnifex and watching his shots ping harmlessly off the Praetorian's shield as it slowly approached; scions, abominations, husks and cannibals flanking its sides. Marcus had been about to order a retreat, when he heard the sound of a fast approaching ship.

He was almost knocked from his feet as the entire ground shook, huge explosions consuming the ground where their enemy had once stood as heat brushed his face, causing him to stumble back. Anderson did the same, looking on in sheer disbelief at the double decker explosions, and watched, as the smoke and fires cleared, that the enemy was nowhere to be found. The Praetorian had been vaporized in the twin blasts, along with the rest of its reinforcements. Marcus grinned even wider as he watched the Normandy appear not long after, and realized that Joker had bombarded them with two javelin torpedoes. _That's my pilot. _

He watched as Joker slowly brought the stealth frigate around, its shuttle bay door slowly opening as it came to connect with the harbor dock, Marcus looking at the Systems Alliance colors of blue and white that once covered his ship, and the Alliance insignia at the tip. _The Alliance own her now, not me. Kaidan is in command now, not me._

He lamented at that, but as soon as he heard more pods deploying behind them, knew now was not the time, "Come on," he urged, and he ran forward, jumping over wreckage as he dumped his assault rifle and ran for the open shuttle bay doors, Anderson not far behind. He saw Kaidan, Keeling and James appear in the shuttle bay opening, weapons brandished and wearing full combat armor, their weapons barking as they provided covering fire for the two of them as they ran full pelt for the frigate's open bay.

Just as Marcus reached the edge of the harbor, he leapt, landing on the Normandy's opened door and moving a meter inwards, greeting Kaidan, helmet on and his vindicator at the ready, with a smile, "Good to have you back, Shepard," the soldier replied, and Marcus returned his greeting with Keeling, also in full armor and James, who wore bulky looking alliance heavy armor, but without the helmet, and holding what looked to be a Revenant Light Machine Gun in his grip, the weapon spitting hot death and taking down dozens of husks as they rushed for the vulnerable frigate. The city burnt around them as Marcus turned to Anderson, his smile fading as he saw the admiral just standing there, making no effort to enter the Normandy.

"Come on Anderson!" Marcus shouted at the admiral, brows furrowing in confusion, "We've got to get out of here!"

As they stood there, they watched four alliance kodiak shuttles arrive, their hatches opening as they hovered and marines pouring out, opening fire on the husks below. With the enemy finally cleared out, the shuttles began to land, and it was then that he noticed the crowds of civilians crowding around to be evacuated as marines signalled them into their assigned shuttles. _It's an evacuation..._

Anderson looked at the grouping for one more second, before solemnly shaking his head and turning to Marcus with a sad expression, "I'm not going."

Marcus' expression became just as solemn, and he opened his mouth to protest when Anderson continued, pointing his finger at the marines evacuating behind him, "Those men over there? There are a million more like them, and they need a leader. Our Parliament is gone, Garrong is dead, the many nations are being overrun, and the Alliance Navy likely no longer exists. That leaves only a short few, and I'm prepared to step up to the plate. If humanity needs a leader here on Earth, and if it has to be me, then so be it. But you need to go. The galaxy needs a leader, and you're the only one willing to stand up to the plate."

Marcus shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing, "We're in this fight together, Anderson! You and me against an army of Reapers. If you stay here...Earth's already fallen, and there's a good chance all these men could be dead or turned into husks tomorrow," he felt the words to be acid on his tongue, but knew it to be true, "We can fight this enemy together. You and me, like it could have been with Saren."

Anderson smiled sadly, shaking his head as he holstered his carnifex, "It won't be like that, Shepard. I'm sorry. Those men may be dead tomorrow; I acknowledge that. But what's the point of fighting for a galaxy that might be gone next month? The rate they're invading, it'll be that way. No, Earth needs a leader, and I need to be that leader. The galaxy needs you, and you have a squad ready to back you. Get out there, find them, and fight this damn threat. This is a fight we can't win; not without help. You and I knew that from the beginning. We need every ship and every soldier to even have a _chance _at defeating the Reapers."

He looked away, eying the deck below him like it was fascinating, but he just couldn't bring himself to meet Anderson's gaze. To agree. _To leave my mentor behind to die on a world that is already doomed._

Anderson, oblivious to Marcus' thoughts, stepped forward on the harbor, talking, "Go to the Citadel. Talk to the Council. Convince them to help us. Convince them to help themselves. We can't win this war unless everyone is united. 'United We Stand, Divided We Fall.' Remember that. Bring help not only to retake Earth, but to save the entire galaxy from annihilation!"

Marcus snorted, meeting Anderson's gaze with narrowed eyes, "And what if they won't listen?"

Anderson merely chuckled, waving a dismissive hand, voice raising in volume, "Then you damn well make them listen! Bash them over the head the Reapers if you need to. And if they won't listen, go to the Migrant Fleet. Contact the geth; make that peace you talked about. Go into the Terminus Systems; hire Aria T'Loak and her armies. Vorcha. Elcor. Hanar! Whoever you can muster; if they can fight, get them to fight for our cause! The entire damn galaxy! Our fate is in your hands; you decide! No GO! That's an order!" His voice was serious to the core, offering no argument.

But Marcus knew the gesture was moot, "I don't _take _orders from you anymore, remember? I'm just a gun-toting maniac who just happened to be right all along."

Anderson sighed, his hands drifting to his pocket as his hand drifted inside, pulling out something and clenching it in his fist. He seemed to ponder what he was doing, thinking it over, before finally giving in, looking up and meeting the soldier's eyes, "Now you do. You deserve this, you always have," he tossed the bars of a Commander towards Marcus, who caught it without hesitation, placing it in his pocket. Commander Shepard was now a Commander once more.

They both gave each other a look, and Marcus realized what he must do. _I must abandon another friend to save the galaxy. Why is this so familiar? _

He had left Ashley behind too. And that decision had haunted him to this very day.

With a final sigh, Marcus gave a reluctant nod, and Anderson saw the trauma and debate in his eyes. He knew this must be painful, but for the good of the galaxy, it had to be done. He nodded his agreement, speaking to Marcus for the final time in what he expected to be a long war, "You know what you have to do."

Marcus nodded solemnly, nodding as he began to back up the ramp; James, Keeling and Kaidan still waiting for him, but with weapons inactive and simply held in lower parry. As he backed up, he met Anderson's eyes one final time, putting as much determination into his voice as possible, "I'll be back for you. And Earth. I'll bring every fleet I can," he remembered Sovereign's words on Virmire, "Our numbers will darken the skies of Earth, and then they'll know that the galaxy is united. I'll be back, and I'll bring the help of an entire galaxy. I promise," before he turned away, he muttered loudly enough for the admiral to hear, "Good luck."

"You too Marcus," Anderson farewelled, and the Commander watched as the admiral turned around, walking back down the harbor and towards the evac site, and without looking back. Marcus sighed melancholy, and he turned back to Kaidan, who was ordering Joker to leave Earth and take them to the Sol Relay. Just as he finished these orders and deactivated his omni-tool, James appeared, weapon holstered on his back, "Wait, we're not seriously leaving! We can't-"

"Stow it marine," Marcus growled, glaring daggers at him, "That's an order. Get back inside. Joker...leave the bay door open until we've cleared the city. I need to see this. I need to know what we're fighting to stop."

"Copy that...Shepard," Joker replied, "And...its good to have you back."

He made no reply, and merely smiled grimly at Kaidan as he turned to walk back down the ramp, standing on the edge of it as the Normandy slowly began to pull away and ascend. Kaidan watched his back turn before moving into the ship, followed by Keeling pulling away an angered James. Marcus couldn't blame him, but in the end, there was no choice. They were leaving Earth.

Whether they liked it or not.

He watched with weary eyes as two shuttles took off and flew away, only to be replaced by two more. As he watched, terrified civilians, either weeping or crying out to their savior, were herded into the nearest shuttle as marines from both the Alliance Marine Corps and UNAS Army tried to save as many people as they could, amidst the chaos of the city's destruction.

He immediately recognized four of the children as being the ones from before, all of them with tears in their eyes and clutching to their mothers and fathers just alittle bit tighter everytime they heard an airhorn reverbrate through the city. Then the blonde-haired boy, the one who had carried the alliance fighter, appeared, standing beside an alliance marine, who seemingly ignored him, firing burst after burst at an approaching husk. The marines shouted at the people to hurry up, and as the blonde-haired child turned, both their eyes met in an instant. The child held up his hand to him, as if in slow-motion, only to drop it suddenly to cover his ears as an airhorn sounded through the air, this time alot closer.

Both, Marcus and all the civilians turned in an instant as one of the smaller Reapers, the ones that walked as tall as 160 meters, came around the corner, red eye radiating death. One leg lifted up, sending nine destroyed skycars flying, before it landed again, crushing a Mako that had been harmlessly firing at it. Turning downwards, it noticed its victims below, and screeched again, the red glow increasing in color.

Everyone screamed and the marines were overwhelmed as people rushed onto the shuttles en masse, overcrowding them. He watched two children fall to the ground in the chaos, before being silenced as their necks were snapped by the people stampeding over them, desperately trying to escape. A tear fell down Marcus' cheek before he realized what had happened, and he just wanted to turn away, but he forced himself to watch.

_Like scared animals trying to escape a predator..._

He watched as one shuttle took off, people falling out of it in droves as the hatch closed. He watched three people crushed by its closing, and the shuttle tilted as it took off, packed beyond its capacity. As it slowly lifted off the ground, it gained more and more ascension. The blonde-haired child's eyes met his one more time before he disappeared inside another shuttle, this one less packed as it took off with more ease, ascending quickly into the air.

As the two shuttles slugishly took off, the third shuttle was still being packed when the Reaper fired its beam, a constant stream of molten metal impacting the ground and tearing it asunder, vaporizing civilian upon civilian, marine upon marine when they came into contact with it. It slid across the ground, devastating more of the harbor, before hitting the shuttle on the ground, blasting it apart in one shot. More tears fell as he watched the two shuttles try to escape, only for the Reaper to divert its attention, firing again at the tilted shuttle, which immediately exploded upon contact. The shuttle containing the blonde-haired child managed to acellerate across the river...

...only to be blown apart as the Reaper shifted focus, and fired on it. Marcus finally turned away, wiping his tears away and waiting for them to dry, before turning away and walking up the ramp, ordering Joker to speed up their leave. As he stopped inside the shuttle bay, he heard the bay door begin to close, and he simply stood there, looking at his pocket. His Commander's bars...they felt bigger than normal. Feeding his hand inside, he took out the bars, opened his fist, and watched them in the palm of his hand.

_"Now you do. You deserve this, you always have."_

His hand clenched again, and he placed the bars back in his pocket, looking back up just as the Normandy entered the atmosphere and the door sealed behind him. He inhaled, before moving into a fast walk, heading towards Kaidan, Keeling and James.

He wasn't just a Commander anymore. No, what Anderson had meant was that he was now promoted.

He was Captain Shepard now.

And the Reaper War had only just begun.

**"The Fall of Earth really hit you hard. You never liked talking about it."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Of course not. No one wants to see their homeworld fall before their eyes, and then be forced to leave it to save it. Especially when you must leave your life's mentor behind."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"If its as you describe, then the Fall of Earth was truly only the beginning. I'm assuming you headed to the Citadel next?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"That had been the plan when we left Earth, but there was a...course deviation."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Course deviation? What kind?"**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"An important one. Without it, we could have lost the entire conflict. It was a game changer. It changed the course of the war in our long-term favor."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**There's the first chapter. And yes, the second chapter is Priority: Mars. Don't know, I will provide an explanation for just how Vigil didn't know or mention the 'magical weapon that kills all Reapers and solves all the game's challenges.' But now, its time to discover that the Reapers really aren't the only enemy in this war...**_

_**Keelah Se'lai! This story is going to be one hell of a ride, so I'd buckle your seatbelts.**_


	3. Chapter 2 Archives of Hope

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWO:**

**ARCHIVES OF HOPE**

_June 2, 2186_

_1218 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Passing Luna._

_The Reaper War, Fall of Earth._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

His footsteps seemed to echo through the bay as he left the bay door's side, moving towards what looked to be some kind of...armoury? Actually, he decided to stop for a moment, and took a good long look around the shuttle bay. The lighting was considerably darker than he remembered, and the vent ducts that lined the bottom deck were now missing, replaced with smooth deck plating.

The area where the second kodiak shuttle used to be was now replaced with a massive storage of hap-hazardly placed crates, and in the middle of all that was a makeshift armoury; a bench with a light placed over it, a disassembled N7 Crusader shotgun ontop of its surface. Behind it was three storage lockers, along with five more further back, likely holding the ship's weapons. Above that was a metal bar stretching across, likely for pull-ups.

Before the elevator was the usual console setup, but Marcus could now see a locker for armor on the right steel support strut, and the entire interface seemed to have more consoles this time, where a dark-skinned man in alliance standards was typing; a man he didn't recognize. To his left was a long launch-pad, like a runway that was railed off, and sitting at the end, on the elevator side of the bay, was a brand-new kodiak shuttle, colored Alliance blue and white, but with a darker finish and sitting above it, a single replacement suspended on a metal cable. But this design looked different to stand kodiaks; this one had two, front-mounted cannons, and the hatch appeared to have a lower, segmented section, and overall, it looked larger than its original counterpart. Same was said for the one above it.

Overall, the bay looked largely unfinished; likely the retrofit hadn't been completed, and they had to leave it like that during their haste to escape the shipyard. A few lights were even flickering on the ceiling.

His observation of the bay was abruptly interrupted as he was brought back to the present, James suddenly in his face, tossing his helmet to the ground and his face contorted in rage, "Where the hell are we going!? _We can't leave! _That is our bloody homeworld down there! We can't just leave them to die! I was born on Earth! That's my _home._"

Marcus sighed, pushing past James with relative ease and making his way over to the man operating the console near the shuttle, "Anderson and I both know what has to be done. The only way to save Earth now is to leave it. Gather help."

"That's bullshit!" James exclaimed, and he could hear footsteps behind him as James pursued him across the bay. Kaidan and Keeling now joined the man, and Kaidan seemed to be talking to him, "Thouands are dying down there! Are we seriously going to just leave them down there? Take us back down there! Take us back to Earth!"

He had enough, spinning to face James, his face also contorted in irritation, "And do what, genius? Throw pebbles at them? Because that might as well be what we're doing! It took three fleets to fight them. And they got annihilated! _Three. _Tell me James, just what do you think we can do?"

James seemed lost for words, but quickly regained his composure, poking a finger in his chest, "You're a damn hero! You could at least help evacuate! But this is what you do? Piss off, leave Anderson behind, and leave everyone to die? That isn't the Commander Shepard I know."

_More hero worship. For fuck sake, _"For starters, its _Captain _Shepard now," he moved forward, grabbing James by the color and lifting him up into the air with ease, despite the heavy armor the marine wore, "And you need to take a big fucking look around you, because this isn't a game anymore. Heroics won't win this war; quick decisions will. I can't afford to play the good guy in this, and neither can you. This is war; there are no rules. I will do anything to win, even if that means sacrificing Earth to stop these bastards," by the time he was finished, he was silently fuming. _I will not tolerate this hero worship anymore. We fight or we die. There is no other option._

James looked down at him with wide eyes, "But its my home..."

"You think losing your home is bad? Try losing your entire family. My mother was a captain on the Orizaba in the Fourth Fleet. Her body is probably floating through space now," he growled, "We've all lost something, on Earth or over it, but we'll be losing alot more before this war is over. Its only going to get worse; and you either get with the program, or you die. This isn't a democracy anymore; if you want to go back to Earth, fine, but you'll be taking a shuttle from the Citadel, because the Normandy isn't going back. Now control yourself."

He relieved his grip on the soldier, dropping him on his feet. James recovered himself, before taking a step back, waving a dismissive hand, and growling loudly, before kicking a crate in his way aside and moving towards the armoury. Marcus was barely fazed by the outburst, and merely headed over to Kaidan and the man at the console.

The man immediately snapped a firm salute, his entire posture straightening like a taught bow, "Comma-Captain...sir."

As Marcus returned the salute, he allowed himself to observe the alliance officer. The man wore a standard issue alliance officer uniform, the bars of a Lieutenant in the Alliance Navy pinned on his left breast. His eyes landed on his face next. His skin was a deep coffee brown, much like Jacob's, but his eyes were more narrowed, his nose slightly smaller, and his jaw less firm. His ears poked out slightly, and he had smooth cheeks until you reached the area around his mouth, where medium stubble poked out. He had thin eyebrows, and just enough black hair to keep from being bald. And his eyes shone bright blue.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Marcus replied, dropping his own salute as the other man did. Judging by the man's accent, he was American, "What's your name, trooper?"

The man laughed, shaking his head, "No trooper, sir. I'm a pilot. By the looks of it now..._your _pilot," he shuffled, nodding as he continued, "As for the name, I am Lieutenant Steve Cortez, Alliance Navy."

"Welcome to the Normandy Cortez," Marcus greeted, holding out his hand, to which Cortez hesitantly looked at it before accepting, shaking his captain's hand before retracting, "Guess I now have three new members to my crew."

"Four, actually," Kaidan piped up, jabbing a thumb at the elevator, "You haven't met Comms Specialist Traynor. Although, all of this is rather unexpected, actually."

"How so?" Marcus quizzed.

Cortez decided to fill in, shrugging his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, we weren't actually meant to be part of your crew at all. Myself, Traynor and everyone else were all here for the retrofits only. Traynor was assigned here due to her tech skills, and was meant to pull apart and analyze that quantum entanglement communicator Cerberus gave you. Me? I'm the pilot. I just used my shuttle to ferry supplies from the port to the ship. That's all. My assignment here wasn't meant to be permanent."

Marcus grinned, "Trust me, alot of us never 'intended' to stay...yet here we are," he lost his grin as it grew though, "The reasons for it however are...quite different this time."

Cortez waved a dismissive hand, "Its like you said; Earth is only the beginning. The galaxy will soon be flooding with those bastards. I heard the reports about those Reapers. Shocking stuff. I'm just happy I pilot shuttles."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, an idea popping into his mind, "You got any experience in combat zones? Extraction? Insertion?"

Cortez grinned toothily, "Sure do. That's why I signed up. Used to pilot the old F-61 Trident interceptors back during my posting on the SSV Hawking. They're alot faster than kodiak shuttles, but I can definitely manage them. You want a pilot, you choose me."

"And you're chosen," he nodded, patting the man on the shoulder, "Now you get to put up with our shit," he motioned between him and Kaidan, the latter chuckling. As they all turned, they saw James sitting in the corner, his armor stripped off and lying all over the bay floor, and he seemed to be brooding, looking blankly at the floor. Marcus could feel his pain, and understood it.

"Leaving Earth to save it," Kaidan muttered, coming to stand by his side, the captain turning to face the biotic sentinel as he shook his head lightly, "It couldn't have been an easy decision to make."

"The best decisions are never easy," Marcus replied, and Kaidan merely looked at him as he went on, "Its making them count that makes it all worth it," he met Kaidan's eyes, "We'll come back Kaidan. We'll return to Earth, and save it. With the biggest armada in history. We'll make the Reapers shit themselves, that I can promise."

"How?" Keeling spoke for the first time since the ordeal, and both of them turned to the N7 who stood there, weapon holstered and helmet still on as she spoke, "You can't just slam a force like that together. It takes alliances, treaties, brotherhoods. You make friends, you make enemies, you piss people off, hug a few more, and then threaten some. It isn't something you assemble in a month. It takes time."

"Then we'll make time," Marcus stated, "And we'll start with the Council," he turned back to Kaidan, dropping his cold facade for but a moment as he eyed the elevator with disdain before turning back to Kaidan, "So, give me the damage report, Alenko. I've seen the Shuttle Bay, and I'm not impressed. How much of the ship has the Alliance changed?"

Kaidan smirked, liking the hint of annoyance in Marcus' tone. He couldn't say he didn't feel it as well, but to be honest, what did he expect under the Alliance whip? "Surprisingly little, actually. They may have planned to change more, but they never got around to it. Traynor can give you the full tour, but I'll just sum it up for you. Engineering is completely unchanged, and is the maintenance area below where Jack used to hide. The Garbage Disposal Area's been removed though, and its been replaced with 'VIP quarters' as the crew call them. Its a clean room; what for, I haven't a clue."

Marcus groaned, "Continue."

Kaidan resisted the urge to laugh, "The Cargo Port where Grunt used to hang out got cleaned out, and I guess its just a storage area now. They tossed out his tank, and some other changes may have happened, but I didn't bother to look. As for the Crew Deck; alot worse, I'm afraid. For god know's what reason, they added a poker table in the Lounge where Kasumi hung out, they left the crew's quarters and Life Support alone, as is the same with Port Observation. The XO's quarters have been cleaned out and they never got to change it, the AI Core and Medical Bay have been left untouched, and a few consoles were added to the Gunnery Control, and it was extended slightly."

"Garrus will have a field day with that setup," Marcus declared, grinning, but Kaidan could see the sense of sadness that eminated from mentioning the absent turian, "Keep going."

"The biggest changes were to the CIC deck. A door has been added to the cockpit, and the Tech Lab has been switched from its original location to the armoury's original location, which in turn has been moved to the Shuttle Bay."

"I've noticed," the captain deadpanned, glancing at the 'armoury' that James currently sat in, "Looks considerably smaller now, too. But I understand the change. Never understood why Cerberus thought it a great way to store all their weapons on the command deck."

"Exactly," Kaidan replied, before continuing, "Traynor's made her home at Kelly's old terminal, and a...don't ask me why, but remember that pointless, empty box inbetween the CIC and the old Tech Lab's location?"

"Yeah..." Marcus trailed off, not liking where this was going.

"Well, they decided to fill it," Kaidan replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "Added a security checkpoint. Two officers currently man it, Privates Bethany Westmoreland and Sarah Campbell, and its just a metal detector field. Pointless thing, but I guess it makes sense. As for the Tech Lab, in addition to moving it to the Armoury's original position, its been replaced by a 'debriefing' room. They basically removed the old Conference Room, but kept the table, using it for that room, and surrounding it with glass. The corridor between the Armoury and Tech Lab has been filled with four bulkheads, and a War Room was added, that is accessed through the debriefing room. The Quantum Entanglement Communicator was removed, but we added a new Alliance-built one. Not quite as advanced as Cerberus', but it serves its function. As for your cabin, they've literally done nothing to it. The airlock you installed for Tali is untouched, and the cabin itself has had no changes made to it. Noone's even set foot on that deck. Literally."

Marcus nodded. _Good. I'd have killed the asshole who removed that airlock. Noone touches my home. __**Our **__home. _Thinking of Tali wasn't as painful anymore, especially since he could not only contact, but now visit, her now. He made a move towards the elevator, but was stopped as he heard EDI's voice over his intercom, "Captain, it is good to see you again."

"EDI," he smiled warmly, "Its good to hear another friendly voice. Been looking after Joker?"

"Jeff is fine. He has been keeping me safe, and he says I've done quite well; acting as a VI," the AI responded, and he swore he heard a smile in her voice, "It is good to be under your command again. Being surrounded by alliance personnel, especially nosey ones trying to access my core, has been...quite interesting."

He chuckled, "Its okay, EDI. Noone will get into your core, I know that much."

"Thank you Shepard," she replied, before speaking again, "We have just received an emergency call from the SSV McKinley near Neptune. Fleet Admiral Hackett has taken what was left of the Earth Defense Fleet and is making leeway for the Sol Relay. He has ordered an official quarantine and evacuation of all Alliance personnel from the system, a complete trade embargo, and is attempting to contact your omni-tool directly."

Marcus seemed to immediately stop in his tracks, and he whorled in an instant, his eyes meeting Kaidan's, "Wait, you're saying the communication is coming from the McKinley? Hackett's alive?" _And maybe my mother too..._

EDI's reply was instantaneous, "Yes, although the extent of damage done to his fleet is currently unknown. Aside from that, Admiral Hackett did survive the invasion of Earth, and is currently in orbit of Neptune."

He nodded, bringing up his omni-tool, "Put him through EDI."

The AI did so without verbal reply, and he watched as his omni-tool sprang to life around his wrist, and Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett's face appeared on screen, his face just as old and grissled as it was before his arrest. The man seemed to be sitting in his command chair on the McKinley's bridge, and he could see that it was a flurry of activity.

Hackett replied instantly, sighing with relief, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard. When I heard the reports from Earth, I thought you were dead for sure. Is Anderson with you? What about Admiral Garrong? Have you heard from him?"

Marcus gulped, looking at Hackett sadly, "Anderson stayed behind sir; they need a leader, he said, and that leader is him apparently. As for Garrong...Admiral sir, Garrong's dead. I watched him die. Harbinger killed him and the entire Vancouver Defense Committee right before my eyes."

Hackett looked at the ground for a second, before shaking his head, and looking back up, "Based on the line of succession, with Garrong dead, command of the Alliance Navy goes to the one closest to promotion...which just happens to be me. I'm Fleet Admiral of the Navy now," he slammed a clenched fist into the control interface on his chair, meeting Marcus' eyes, "Always knew I'd be promoted someday, but I never knew it would happen like this."

"None of us did," the captain replied, "Anderson has reinstated me, and I've been promoted to Captain. Is there a particular area where the Normandy can regroup with what's left of our ships?"

"Promoted? Can't say you haven't earned it. And right now, we need all the able-bodied officers we can get," Hackett muttered, nodding as he tapped a few controls on his interface, "Yes. We'll be regrouping with the rest of the fleets in the Andura System; then we'll take it from there. Netanyahu and Singh's fleets took a beating, but so far they, and their dreadnoughts, are intact. Teoh and Nakamura's fleets were totally ignored, so they haven't taken a beating whatsoever, and from what I've heard, Ward's fleet is currently engaging a Reaper scouting force in the Artemis Tau Cluster. He's taking a beating, and he's going to try to reconsolidate his forces over Ontarom before he tries to regroup with us. As for my fleet, Arefyev's and Drescher's..."

Marcus gulped, dreading this moment, "What's the damage Admiral?"

"My fleet took one hell of a beating, and I think the McKinley lost its port engine from a grazing shot," he rubbed his temple, shaking his head, "The other fleets weren't so lucky. Arefyev had to sacrifice half of her ships just to provide us a line of retreat, but it wasn't long before they fell apart. Drescher...she stayed behind to give us time to escape."

"Wait, are you telling me that...?"

Hackett nodded solemnly, eyes closing, "Afraid I am, Captain. The Second Fleet is gone. Nothing left of it. Drescher even took her flagship, the SSV Shasta, and lead the way. I watched it unfold Shepard. The Shasta was blown to pieces, but the fleet stood their ground. But their gone Shepard. Not a ship left, or fighter. No escape pods, nothing. Drescher's dead, along with her flagship."

Marcus mentally cursed the Reapers in his mind. _An entire fleet just wiped out. I never liked Drescher, but damn it...that's two admirals dead, along with an entire fleet. I hope the news gets better, _"What...what about Arefyev's flagship? The Orizaba? Is my mother still alive?" He hoped upon all that she was.

Hackett nodded, a small smile on his lips, "That, I can say, is the first piece of good news. Arefyev survived, and the Orizaba got out almost completely unscatched. Half of her Fourth Fleet is gone, but her ship survived. As for the Orizaba's captain; she's alive and well; rest easy on that, captain."

Marcus nodded, "Thank you sir." _There might be hope for this war yet. _Shaking his head, both of their faces became solemn again as the former commander spoke, "Just how bad was it, Hackett? I saw the attack on Earth, but I wasn't there during the fleet engagement."

Hackett inhaled through his nose, giving a mirthless chuckle as he scratched the bridge of his nose, "Just as you said it would be, Shepard. I know my fleet fought Sovereign head on three years ago, but that was just _one _Reaper. When hundreds of those bastards came pouring through the relay...we sustained heavy losses, as you already know. Our orbital guns around Pluto, Uranus, Jupiter, Neptune...systematically obliteratered. Strangely, they seemed to leave Mars well enough alone, and their shipyards and ground facilities have been left unmolested as of yet, but I doubt it'll stay like that for long. Our fleet engaged them over Earth, but even with the orbital gun platforms to aid us, it didn't do much. We didn't get a single kill, Shepard, not one. They blew through us, destroyed the orbital guns, and then made straight for Earth. They were dropping globally in seconds."

"What about Jump Zero?" Marcus asked, confused as to the status of the large space station that Kaidan had grown up on, "And Luna Base? What happened to them?"

Hackett shrugged, "We know that three of the ones we're calling 'Destroyers,' that's the small, crab-like walkers, deployed onto Luna and completely destroyed our launch facilities and bases down there, so our Hannibal-VI combat suites couldn't help us. As for Jump Zero...last we checked, the Reapers had taken the station, but we never actually saw what they did with it. Its safe to assume they destroyed it, along with Arcturus Station. The enemy force was just overwhelming, Shepard. Never, in all of human history, have we encountered an enemy so merciless. So fearless. So...unbeatable."

_Oh, but they can be beaten. Sovereign was beaten. The Human-Reaper was beaten. I watched Desolation and Primal get vaporized by the Alpha Relay explosion. Four Reapers have died...they can be beaten. It just takes every bloody weapon in the galaxy to do it._

"There's no way we can defeat them conventionally," Hackett surmised, breaking Marcus from his reverie, "It'll take a damn miracle to help us out of this one. And with Earth fallen, the Parliament dead, most of our space in Reaper-occupied territory...the Alliance is a battered shell, Shepard. The Council is the only form of government we have left now. We've lost a fleet, and the rest are battered remnants. Its chaos. People will lose hope. Some might even believe this is humanity's extinction event...and who can blame them?"

_Oh, its our extinction event alright. But I'm going to stop it. _Marcus nodded, shaking his head, "As much as I am loathe to admit it, Anderson was right sending us to the Citadel. He wants me to speak with the Council, try and rally support from the turians, asari and salarians. If we get them onboard, we have the foundation for our military counterattack. They can't deny the Reapers exist anymore; not with two whole governments having fallen in _six hours._"

"Agreed," Hackett declared, before leaning forward, hands clasped in his lap, "Anderson has the right idea...but you can't leave the Sol System yet. I've just received mission critical intel...I ignored it at first, but after reading over it, this could be seriously important to any further war effort. This mission is a priority one, and with you reinstated in the Alliance Navy, that puts you under my command."

Marcus gritted his teeth, not liking the fact that he now had to take orders. _I make my own orders. This is __**my **__war, and you're all my pawns. But if this is priority one, it must be important..._

"What is it, Hackett?" He asked, with alittle bit of annoyance creeping into his tone.

The admiral spoke and provided without fail, "Before you leave Sol, I need you to head to the Prothean Archives on Mars."

His eyes widened and his brow raised, "What the hell do we hope to find there? No disrespect sir, but a bunch of data isn't going to make Reapers drop from the sky."

Hackett shook his head, "We've got to stop thinking guns here, Shepard. We've got to start thinking ideas. Data might just be the thing we need to stop the Reapers. Before Arcturus fell, we learnt that the scientists at the Archives had discovered something located deep in the ground. Shepard, they discovered another beacon, but this one was more advanced. They called it a Library. Its a treasure trove of information, and they were coming to close to discovering something referring to a 'super weapon' before we lost contact."

The words 'super weapon' peaked his interest enough for him to take this seriously, "I'll have my pilot plot a course for the Mars Archives immediately."

Hackett nodded, "Just be careful, Shepard. We lost contact with the facility, but the strange thing is, it was long before the Reapers even arrived in system."

He narrowed his eyes, "So if isn't the Reapers, then who is it?"

He sighed, "I don't know, Shepard. That's up to you to find out. I'll contact you when we've consolidated our forces in Andura. Once that's done, you can link up with us. I've decided our best option is to head to the Citadel; mold our forces with the Citadel fleet and resupply, hopefully get some repairs. With most of our shipyards taken or destroyed by the Reapers, it seems we have no choice but to seek outside help. And while you're getting help from the Council, maybe you can find out how the other races are reacting to this. See their stance on it."

_And locate the Migrant Fleet. Find Tali. Go to Rannoch. Make peace with the geth. Getting those two working together will create an alliance more powerful than all the Citadel races combined. _Marcus nodded his agreement, "We'll see each other then, Admiral. Shepard out," with that, he cut the connection, deactivating his omni-tool as he looked up to meet Kaidan's eyes. He gave a brief nod before addressing Joker, knowing EDI was listening.

"Set a course for the Mars Archives, Joker. Best speed. I want this over with before the Reapers completely seal off the system," he ordered.

Joker's response was quick and to the point, "Copy that...captain. EDI says we'll be there in ten to fifteen minutes. I'd be putting on my costumes and getting ready to dance if I were you."

He snarkily replied, "Thank you Joker," he turned to Kaidan, motioning to the armor locker, "Let me guess...they got rid of my Terminus Armor? Replaced it with the standard issue?"

Kaidan squared his shoulders, grinning, "Sorry, Captain. Alliance regs are a bitch, unfortunately."

_Alliance regs changed my ship color, and turned my vessel into a stereotypical horror house. Any darker and I might trip over myself. _He shook his head, quickly moving over to the locker and keying it open to retrieve his gear.

"I just hope they have good weapons."

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1240 hours._

_Troop Compartment, UT-47A Kodiak Combat/Stealth Shuttle, Inbound for Systems Alliance Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

"I hate these weapons."

The chatter in the shuttle had been constant as they had left the Normandy and headed for Mars surface, locking onto the Mars Archives. They all stood their with full armor, with James in the co-pilot's seat, and Cortez in the pilot's. When Marcus had seen the armor he was to wear, he had cringed; it was light, covered head-to-toe in Alliance blue and white, and the shoulderpads seemed huge for its body. The breather helmet he wore didn't make up for it, and he already missed his Terminus armor, especially when he saw the kinetic barriers on it and how weak they were.

The weapons he was provided weren't much better. He preferred assault rifles and shotguns, but had gotten a liking for SMGs ever since their introduction, and gotten used to using them. He had loved his geth pulse rifle, claymore heavy shotgun, and Locust SMG, especially the latter due to it being a replica of the one that killed two Presidents many decades ago, stolen from Donovan Hock's treasure vault. Kasumi had the real idea, thank god; if he had it, the Alliance would have confiscated that instead.

So far, all he liked was his new SMG and shotgun, his SMG being an N7 Hurricane, and his shotgun a N7 Piranha. Aside from that, the lackluster M-8 Avenger Assault Rifle stood pretty far out from his better weapons. _Why would they give me two N7 weapons, then just dump this piece of shit AR on me? _The N7 Piranha was by far his most impressive weapon. Built to resemble a grenade launcher, the Piranha sacrificed severe damage for rapid-fire capability, and wide pallet spread, making it one of the most effective shotguns out there.

But that didn't mean he loved any of them. He still preferred the Claymore, and he still preferred the Locust. Simple as that. _Maybe I'll get them back._

He shifted in his unbelievably light armor; simply listening as Kaidan chuckled, Keeling cleared her throat, and James and Cortez remained silent as ever. Marcus merely shot Kaidan a glare before tightening the straps on his shoulders, and looking around the cabin. The cabin was definitely larger than the ones in the old kodiaks, had better lighting, more seats and a tiny vidscreen to the side for briefings. Cracking his neck, he turned to look at the back of Cortez's skull, speaking through his helmet, "I've never seen this type of kodiak before, Cortez. What's up with the design?"

"A new design," Cortez stated a matter-of-factly, sounding excited to explain more about his beloved shuttle, "The UT-47_A_ kodiak, not the UT-47. This is a new alliance design, with some help from engineers in the Salarian Union in a joint project; kinda like the joint Alliance-Hierarchy project with the Normandy-Class Stealth Frigates. This shuttle has better engines, tow forward facing cannons for light combat and defense, bigger troop space, and is overall a dropship. Its one new feature though is the compacted stealth drive it uses. Its a smaller version of the one used by the Normandy-Class."

He raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, "Wait, you're saying this shuttle is stealth capable? Noone can see us unless they look out a window?"

Cortez nodded, smiling, "Its currently active right now. Alliance won't know we've landed until we're already there."

Marcus sighed, turning away as Kaidan spoke, "This still doesn't make any sense. Hackett already said the Reapers weren't in system when the Archives dropped out of contact. Who could be attacking this facility? Only explanation I can see is the facility deliberately cutting all contact, but why would they do that? It makes no sense, none of this."

_Cerberus couldn't be involved; the Illusive Man has nothing to gain by attacking the Archives. So someone else has to be behind this. _He shrugged non-chatantly, "We won't know until we land. Maybe they did sever contact, but whatever the reason, it can't be good. Just be ready. It could be terrorists...or an advance force of Reapers."

Kaidan exhaled, nodding gently as James called out from the cabin, "We'll be landing in one minute. Got to make this quick though; sandstorm's moving in."

He saw Keeling move from her steel pose, ceasing the tune she had been whistling as she stood up, grabbing her weapon, "I've encountered those sandstorms before during my time here. Definitely not pretty, and you don't want to be caught in them. If they're close enough to see, we'll have roughly forty minutes before it arrives." A beep, followed by a mechanical whir, was heard as her battle rifle, an N7 Valkyrie, folded out into her hands, Keeling moving towards the hatch. Another difference with this shuttle compared to the original is, unlike the original, instead of flipping open, this hatch had two sections; a lower portion, and the upper, which was bigger. When the hatch opened, the lower portion slid to the left, while the upper portion slid upwards. A pointless design change, but a design change nonetheless.

Keeling spoke again, her voice pure steel, "We'll also want to make sure we leave before the storm hits, which gives a mission window of twenty minutes, tops. Once it hits, we'll have alot of problems keeping up comms with the Normandy. And the shuttle. Interferes with the electrical transmissions."

"Maybe a sandstorm is why their comms dropped?" James piped, and everyone turned to see him walking into the cabin, heavy armor back on and helmet fitting over his large head, clicking into place with a hiss of air, "Could be why we're here. We could be charging into the Archives, weaponized, only to find the place to be fine."

Marcus shook his head, "I may be a soldier, but I know how sandstorms work. They're periodic, not constant. If a sandstorm is the cause of this blackout, then why is this one hitting so quickly? They appear annually, not daily."

"Precisely," Keeling complimented, clearly smiling, "Didn't know you knew alot about sandstorms, sir."

He grinned back, noticing the swift change in her tone, "I don't. That's basic knowledge."

"Hey, I'm just the marine," James quipped, letting his Revenant fold out into his hands, "I just shoot shit, and then ask questions about them later."

"We're approaching the drop zone," Cortez declared, turning to face them in his seat, "I'm going to drop just outside the main entrance. I've tried raising comms with the facility, but everything seems to be dead. I don't even see people outside; usually there would be maintenance teams outside doing clean up. There's just nothing."

Captain Shepard nodded sharply before moving to the front of the group, begrudgingly folding out his assault rifle and waiting for the hatch to open as Keeling, Kaidan and James fell in behind him. He smiled mentally. _I've gone from the most multi-species squad in living history to straight humans in six months. I hope they're alright._

Before he could query his mind for further thoughts, the hatch slid apart, revealing the dusty, wasteland-like surface of Mars. Big rocks made up most of the surface, but overall the planet had the same, dull, yellow/golden sands all around, with dust and dirt kicking up from the ground as winds from the sandstorm reached them, but they were pretty light at the present moment. He could see the form of the Archives towering over the rocks; a large dome structure that covered kilometers of territory, with the actual Prothean Archives dig site on the other side. _Along with the Prothean Library they dug up._

When they hovered roughly a meter off the ground, Marcus leapt off, landing with a grunt on the ground. He moved into a roll, and immediately came into a crouch, his assault rifle raised and scanning the terrain. No enemies presented themselves and he slowly came to his feet, and jogged forward, one hand raised in the air, motioning to his squad to deploy. Not long after, the rest of his squad deployed, and he watched Cortez guide the shuttle away and back into a safe position, "This is Lieutenant Cortez, going on station until you need me, captain."

"Copy that Cortez. Stay clear unless we need air support. Shepard out," cutting his comms, he set up a link between him and his squad before testing it, watching three green indicators pop up in the bottom left of his HUD to say they were connected, "Keeling, you're with me. James, Kaidan, keep the rear."

The sound of three copies followed, and he began to jog forward through the oxygenless atmosphere of Mars, his feet making prints in the soft dirt as he rushed past. All was silent as they reached a incline where they could slide down below, a metal ladder built into the wall leading up to them. He moved to holster his rifle when he heard James exclaim in hispanic, and they all turned right to see the gigantic wall of sand moving towards them.

It was like one gigantic plume of yellow smoke moving towards them, stretching out across the horizon and brissling with sand and dirt and smoke. Blue flashes inside it signalled an electrical storm, only adding to the intensity of its destruction, "Don't want to be caught in that. Let's get inside before it hits," Marcus ordered, and he slid down the ladder.

He had hit the bottom and was turning around, moving to unholster his rifle again when he saw the three dead Alliance marines lying on the ground. He immediately dropped into a crouch, scanning the area to the right, but he saw no hostiles, only sounds...shouting! He heard shouting!"

He commed his squad as they came down, "Take positions. Confirmed enemy presence."

As they took positions behind nearby rocks, Keeling checked the dead bodies, apparently adept at investigation, "Gunnery Sergeant George Reece, with Corporal Victoria Ayelt and Lance Corporal Peter Fault. They seemed to have been gunned down; due to the wounds, I'd say they were hit while moving for their weapons, and the erraticness of their wounds are consistent with automatic weapons fire; likely an assault rifle or SMG."

He turned to his group, "Could be Reapers. The Cannibals, the batarian husks, on Earth, they had automatic weapons grafted into their arms. But the reports also said they devoured dead bodies to add armor plating to their bodies; these bodies are unmolested. Something isn't right," he nodded to them, pointing to the corner that wrapped around to the left again, and towards the base main entrance, "We move forward, try to find out what we're dealing with here. I have a sense its not Reapers."

Move forward they did, and when they reached the corner, they quickly found out what the cries and shouts were about.

Two Grizzly tanks and a Mako were parked on the left, all looking to be in a convoy formation. But it was the five alliance marines lined up on their knees, hands behind their heads that took them by surprise. And behind them was a soldier in bulky looking white and gold armor, mattock rifle in hand, moving along them shouting, whilst being surrounded by soldiers in similiar colored armor, albeit alot lighter. If the color didn't confirm it, the insignia on their shoulderpads and chestplate did. A golden hexagon.

_Cerberus. Now we know why this facility fell silent. But what the hell could the Illusive Man possibly want from the Archives? And why is he attacking the Alliance? He should be helping us fight the Reapers! _He also didn't recognize the armor the soldiers were wearing, _those don't look like the standard commando; they look heavily armed and armoured. Did they get an upgrade in the past six months? And does those vehicles have a Cerberus insignia on it? _A quick look confirmed it, _shit._

"Cerberus," Kaidan hissed beside him, "I can't believe it. I thought the Illusive Man was supposed to help us stop the Reapers. Now he's attacking Mars while Earth is occupied by Harbinger and his bloody fleet."

He motioned to the rocky area to the right, "Take James and flank to the right; me and Keeling will flank left. Take these bastards out, then we'll find out why the hell Cerberus is here and why they're attacking us."

Kaidan nodded and then commed James over the radio, ordering him to his position. Meanwhile, Marcus went prone and crawled over to Keeling's position, the two N7s assuming a firing line with the bulky looking soldier, lining up shots with their rifles, "I hope you're as good a shot as people say you are," Keeling muttered.

"Show me how good you can be N7," Marcus teased back, "We'll see who takes him down first."

"Be my guest," she shot back, before adding a moment later, "Sir."

Once Kaidan and James were in position, the group opened fire. Shots cut through the air and slammed into the kinetic barriers of the leader, and he shouted out in surprise, moving to raise his mattock before more shots slammed into him, downing his shield in seconds, before the gunfire ripped his armor asunder, followed by a shot to the head blowing his brains out onto the ground as his body body slumped to the ground dead, the troopers around him dispersing to defense positions, gunning down the marines on their knees before doing so. Marcus shouted in anger at the action. _Bloody bastards._

A carnage shot shot out from behind one of the rocks, which impacted a retreating trooper, opening a large hole in his chest and throwing him off a ledge and fifty feet to his death. The shot was followed by a maelstrom of light machine gun fire, which tore into two more soldiers. Kaidan quickly appeared, a burst of biotic fire flying out from the man's palm, followed by the impact enveloping its victim in purple tangles of light, the soldier screaming as he fell backwards as the matter tore him apart at the atomic level.

Reaching into her bandolier, Keeling unhooked two frag grenades and tossed them over to the enemy ahead, before she got up from her prone position and pushed forward in a crouch, her Valkyrie barking shot after shot after shot at her enemies as the two grenades detonated, shrapnel blowing in all directions, killing four more troopers. As she moved through the smoke, her shields flashed, the enemy managing to consolidate their firepower enough to fire at her, but it was too late by that point.

He got into position to bolster her, summoning his biotics and unleashing assault after assault at the enemy and keeping them suppressed as his body glowed with liquid fire, palms shooting forward with each biotic strike. The battle quickly went south for Cerberus, and they watched as the enemy retreated, only to be gunned down. When the smoke cleared, the entire Cerberus squad lay dead alongside the marines they executed, and Marcus' team moved into the clearing, reloading their weapons and slamming in fresh thermal clips.

"Damn it," Keeling cursed as she moved over to one of the trooper's dead bodies, rolling it over with a boot, red eye visors looking up at them with blank expressions, "I heard the rumors, but I didn't think it was true. Cerberus has militarized itself."

Marcus eyed her with a keen expression, letting his biotics die off until they were but a dim glow, "What do you mean? What rumors?"

She motioned a head at the dead body before her, poking it with an armoured boot, "Rumors that these bastards had built up their military armada. Turns out they were true. Their troops seem to have upgraded, and now they have an entire navy. A proper navy. I don't know what happened along the road, but Cerberus has upgraded, and its been causing hell. They seem to have stepped up their operations all over the galaxy now too," she motioned her rifle at the dead corpse, "They got names for these assholes too. These ones are assault troopers," she then motioned with her rifle to the dead leader, "That's a centurion."

He shook his head, "I can't believe the Illusive Man would have troops here. He's always been about protecting humanity, and defeating the Reapers. Now he seems to be doing the exact opposite of both."

James growled as he moved over to one of the assault troopers on the ground nearby, the solider stirring, and fired a burst into his back, "I don't care what he used to stand for; this is wrong. If he's with the Reapers, he needs to be put down. Him, and Cerberus."

"Not with the Reapers, I don't think," Kaidan stated, looking at Marcus, "But of a different mindset."

Marcus met Kaidan's look, and knew what he meant instantly. _The Illusive Man never agreed with how I dealt with the Reapers. But he believed we should control the Reapers, not destroy them. So why has he militarized? Nothing about this makes any sense. _Before he could say anything, Kaidan shook his head, took a step forward, and eyed the facility towering over them, speaking with confusion, "Why would Cerberus even attack this place in an assault? The security here is top of its day; some of the code was even designed by salarians in the STG and the SIA, how could they hope to penetrate this place with anything less than a battalion? But by the looks of it here, these three vehicles could fit no bigger than a company. They must have had help from the inside."

The captain agreed, motioning to the main entrance, which lay wide open, "Then let's go see just what happened. Keep your fingers on your triggers; this isn't a search and rescue op. We're here to find the Prothean Library, extract the information required, and then bug out. The Reapers will be here soon, and we don't want to be here when they turn up."

Moving forward, everyone else simply fell in line.

No arguments were provided. The game had suddenly changed, and two enemies presented themselves.

A long war indeed.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1250 hours._

_Main Entrance Cargo Elevator, Systems Alliance Research Facility, Mars Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

They had encountered another squad of Cerberus soldiers outside the entrance, and they had taken prepared for their arrival. They stood little chance in the face of firm, capable, resistance however, and despite their obviously enhanced speed and strength, Marcus' squad prevailed and they moved into the main entrance, using the large cargo elevator in the middle to elevate into the storage bay.

During the slow ascent, Marcus had simply tried to comprehend why Cerberus would suddenly turn against them on such a scale like this. Before, it was just him trying to kill Shepard, but now he seemed to be targetting the Alliance as a whole. And just what could be so important that they'd attack the Archives? There could only be one answer.

They were here for the same thing they were. The Prothean Library, and the possible 'super weapon' hidden inside.

Kaidan had stood in an uneasy pose, and Keeling seemed agitated in hers, but firm. James seemed way too eager to kill something, once again reminding him of a more heavily-built Jenkins. Marcus himself simply stood there, looking up as the storage compartment slowly revealed itself.

It was large, but simple in design. Crates were piled as high as the ceiling in some areas, and a long balcony ran along the walls, with two blast doors on each level; small elevators allowed access to these balconies, and a forklift sat to one side. Vents covered the ceiling, and the lighting was bright enough to see everything inside. But it was quiet. Too quiet. Not a single Cerberus trooper in the area.

They slowly moved forward, weapons aimed forward, and ears perked for any sound. For a second they heard nothing, but then they heard banging, like the sound of someone banging against metal, and as he followed the sound, he saw it was coming from the vents, and saw dents popping up as someone moved along it. There was no way Cerberus troopers would be crawling through it, so..._Someone is trying to escape._

He motioned to the vent, noticing that Keeling had already noticed and was moving forward, but stopped as soon as gunshots were heard in the vent, followed the ping of a bullet, and more shuffling in the vents. _Someone being pursued..._Another shot fired, piercing the vent and wedging into a wall, followed by more gunshots. But inbetween shots, he swore he heard the sound of biotics being unleashed. _Cerberus biotic, or the escapee is a biotic?_

He soon got his answer as all movement seemed to just stop, followed by the vent seeming to just spotaneously combust, blowing pieces of metal all over the place. His squad dove into cover, including himself as he slid behind a crate, picking up the rifle he had dropped in the process as they dodged fragments of metal. He turned the corner to see a blue aura glowing through the smoke, but he couldn't see who had formed it. What he did hear was the person using the field landing lightly on the ground, followed by a choked cry; one he recognized as the synthesized, robotic voice of a Cerberus soldier. _Sounds like they're kicking ass without us. _He smiled at that.

More gunshots were heard, but they were followed by more choked cries of the soldiers. Finally, the smoke cleared, revealing the person wrapped in biotic fire, carnifex pistol in her grip. She wore a milky white armoured labcoat that ended in a skirt around her knees, and he immediately recognized the tentacles on the back of her head and sapphire skin as that of an asari. And when said person turned around, and her eyes met his, he felt his jaw drop in shock. _No, not here..._

James rushed forward, aiming his rifle at the asari's head as she lowered her weapon, and the biotic aura wrapping her body faded to nothing, "Weapon and on the ground, now! Hands where we can-"

Marcus was at James' side in a heartbeat, hand gripping his Revenant and eying the man, "Lower your weapon Lieutenant," he looked back at her, removing his helmet and smiling as he did, "She's a friend."

He frowned, but lowered his weapon anyway, merely watching as the asari moved forward, a smile gracing her warm, supple lips, holstering her carnifex. He smiled back, shaking his head as he holstered his rifle and pinned his helmet under one arm, the rest of his squad securing the room, "Liara T'Soni; a pleasant surprise."

The asari's smile grew even further as she stepped over the bodies of the four dead soldiers she had killed, and they only stopped moving when they stood half a meter from each other, "Shepard, it is good to see you again," she greeted, sighing with relief, "Although, I think we all wish it was under better circumstances."

"As do I Liara," he grunted, shaking his head, "I'm sure you've heard the reports."

She nodded grimly, "We did. Our comms may be down, but we still saw the news feeds when Cerberus tried to win over some sympathsizers. I'm so sorry, Shepard. Losing Earth, it must be..."

Kaidan was with them in a heartbeat, "We haven't lost Earth yet. We'll save it, in due time."

"'In due time' may well be a very long time," she turned and motioned to the dead corpses of the dead Cerberus soldiers, "Especially with Cerberus now playing against us. A betrayal I, honestly, did not see coming. I knew they wanted us dead, but to actively attack an Alliance facility? Seems beyond them."

Marcus shook his head at the mention of the terrorist organization, "At this point, it doesn't matter. The Reapers are our main concern, the Illusive Man second. I'll put him down if I have to, but at the moment, we have bigger problems. But what are you doing here? Last we meet, you were the Shadow Broker and things were fine. Where's Feron? Why are you even here?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples as she moved over to a observation window giving a few of the base's exterior outside, along with more of Mars' terrain and the sandstorm approaching in the distance. Marcus and Kaidan followed, with James and Keeling also doing so, but with weapons covering left, right and center.

"We were attacked Shepard. Cerberus find us. Sent a light cruiser to Hagalaz to destroy my ship," she informed him, leaning against the window with one arm, her eyes glazing along the plains, "They got what they wanted, but not quite in the way they expected. Feron and myself managed to escape, along with the majority of my personnel, before I then set my base on a collision course with their cruiser. Last I saw was both of them floating in debris. Then I came here, because I knew that if there was going to be any information on the Reapers, it would be in the Archives. Fabricating the false ID for a consultant from the Asari Republics was easy enough, and I got in. Feron is in command of my empire while I'm gone, and he's currently in the Terminus Systems; somewhere. He likes to remain hidden. So here I am; pursued by Cerberus. They seem intent on killing me."

Marcus grinned, "Can't imagine why," he shook his head, but his grin quickly vanished, his face becoming all seriousness when he spoke again, "I just wish we'd know what's going on. Out in the galaxy, I mean. I hate being blind. All I heard was that the Hegemony fell, and now Earth is overrun. I need to know how the rest of the galaxy is faring. Considering the Reapers seem to have started in the Attican Traverse and are sweeping west, I'd say they'll be hitting the turians, and possibly the salarians, next, which means I need to find Garrus and Mordin, and warn them."

Liara nodded, "I understand. If I had contact with my network I would tell you, but Cerberus has made that very difficult," she sighed, turning to face him as she pushed herself off the window, leaning on one hip as she crossed her arms, "But what are you doing here? I can't believe we just happen to stumble upon each other by coincidence."

He shook his head, "Hackett sent us here to find something. Apparently they recently dug alittle further and found a Prothean Library of some sort. A Library that apparently contains information regarding the Reapers and a super weapon. Can I hopefully assume those two terms are related?"

She smirked, a smug one if he knew her well enough, "They certainly are. And you're lucky I'm here. I was there when they dug it up, and I was the one who gathered that information. And I can tell you that what we found was groundbreaking. It provided irrefutable proof that the Reapers existed, but of course that's already a moot point now."

James exclaimed behind them in relief, "Hallelujah! Some answers...finally."

Liara nodded to him, before turning back to Marcus, her brow inquisitive, "Yes, we discovered plans for a device. One that was massive in both size and scope, and almost the size of a fully-fledged space station, and the size of the Halcyon-Class Prototype I lived on. Its only referred to as a super weapon, and its designated as being prothean in origin. And what's more interesting, is that they referred to it as a Reaper 'killer.' We can only assume its a way to destroy the Reapers."

Too excited by this news to bother questioning the logic behind it, he spoke fast, and hurriedly, "Here? On Mars? Where is it?"

She exhaled, shaking her head, "Its in the Archives. Its only data, Shepard. Schematics. We didn't dig up the actual weapon."

He cursed as he turned to look outside the window, watching the lone structure of the dig site in the distance. _Nothing is ever simple._

He turned to Liara with a queer look on his face, "But just how did the Alliance not know about this? We've known about the Archives for decades. And if this 'super weapon' can destroy the Reapers, and its prothean built, why didn't they use it? Why didn't they fire it to destroy them? Why are they extinct, and the Reapers are still alive? That's senseless."

She nodded, motioning to the dig site structure with a wave of her hand, "Process of elimination, mixed with a little desperation is how they found it. After you destroyed the Alpha Relay and you were incarcerated, I knew I had to do something. That's why I came here. To find a way to stop the Reapers, and now that way is blocked by an army of Cerberus soldiers wanting to also gain access to it. As for the Protheans not using it..." she shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe the Archives will yield more information when we reach it. I had been datamining it when Cerberus attacked, and cut all power. I had to double back here to find out what was going on, but when I did, Cerberus closed in and sealed all access. We need to get to the dig site before they extract it."

He shook his head, "This sounds too good to be true. A weapon that can wipe out the Reapers with a press of a button? A weapon that can end a horde of unstoppable sentient starships and their equally large hordes of indoctrinated, cybernetically twisted minions of varying appearence? Seems like one giant deus ex machina," he sighed, rubbing his sore eyes, "But I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this weapon really does exist, and can be built to scale and tested, it could be our answer to this threat. We need it. The whole galaxy needs it. It maybe our only hope."

"But why does Cerberus want this weapon?" Kaidan asked in confusion, "Last I checked, he wanted to _control _the Reapers. Dominate them. Why would he try to apprehend blueprints to a weapon that destroys them?"

Keeling piped up, seeming to connect the dots, "Why does a nation attack another nation? To remove a threat."

Marcus saw the wisdom in her words. _He doesn't want the plans so he can use them to destroy his target, _he pieced together, _he simply wants to obtain them before anyone else can and destroy them, removing a threat to his plans. _"Excellent work, Keeling. We need to reach that dig site before Cerberus does. I am not about to let the Illusive Man destroy our only hope of defeating this enemy," he took the helmet under his arm and put it back on, locking his features away with a hiss before bringing his piranha shotgun to bear, "How do we reach the dig site?"

She nodded, bringing up her omni-tool and sending coordinates to all of theirs, "I've just given you schematics of the facility. There's a skytram at the security station that will take us across to the dig. We'll need to move quickly however; no doubt Cerberus is already there. One more thing you should know-"

Her speech was interrupted by the sound of a fire torch wizzing to life and burning through metal, and as all five of them turned, they saw a spark of orange flame slowly coming down the side of a blast door on the upper floor, and they all knew who had arrived. He turned to Liara, an apologetic look in his eye.

"It'll have to wait Liara. We've got company," he turned to Keeling and Kaidan, motioning to crates below the balcony, "Take positions. Liara, with me. James-"

"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed, his expression fierce, "Time to kick some serious Cerberus ass."

"Not today James," he growled, annoyed at being interrupted as he moved back to the elevator they had come through, and he James surprised look as he turned to face the captain. He rushed over to him, his face that of irritation.

"What?"

He turned to face the marine, his helmet inches from the soldier's face, "Wake up, Lieutenant. I need you back on Cortez's shuttle and protecting him in case Cerberus spots him. That is all you will do. Understood?"

"But-"

"Don't 'but' me, Vega! _Do you understand?_" his voice was pure steel, unwithering and unbending. The fierceness in his tone brokered no argument, and James finally nodded meekly, turning away to step on the elevator, helmet clicking into place, before holstering his Revenant, swapping it for his M-27 Scimitar shotgun, looking like a juggernaut in his heavy armor. Marcus glared at his back for a few more seconds before accessing the elevator controls, and watching it descend. The entire time, James did not turn around, speak or even move.

He felt a five-fingered hand grip his shoulder and he turned to meet Liara's eyes, who nodded at the doorway, "We better assume positions. Cerberus are almost through the door."

He nodded, moving forward and sliding behind a crate with Liara at his side, swapping his shotgun for his N7 Hurricane SMG. Checking it was full, he turned around in time to watch the door blast open and fall to the ground, and a stream of Cerberus soldiers piled out. He checked the elevation, seeing that they had the advantage of higher ground. _But we have three biotics._

"Liara, target a singularity in the middle of their group," he ordered, noticing a different type of soldier hefting a large, heavy looking metal shield with a slot through the top, a heavy pistol in his other hand and firing potshots at them, "I'll detonate it with a warp. Kaidan, once I've detonated, reave the leader."

With his acknowledges, he waited for Liara's attack. He saw a centurion crouched behind the balcony's glass railing, mattock heavy rifle in hand and shouting commands at his men, the assault troopers in question raining suppressive fire down on his squad. Their cybernetic voices sounded wrong; far too robotic to be human. And that shield...no normal human, no matter how strong, could lift _that. _

The singularity appeared behind the shielded soldier, and he was lifted up, losing his grip on his shield, which was also sucked in. Three other assault troopers were sucked in before they could escape too, and without hesitation, Marcus charged up his biotics, leapt out and threw his palm forward, a warp field shooting out and impacting the tear in space, causing the singularity to collapse and explode, tearing the shielded soldier and the three troopers apart. This shocked the centurion into standing, before he regained his purpose and lowered his rifle sights over a vulnerable Marcus, managing to get off two shots on his shield before Keeling took out the centurion's shields, followed by Kaidan reaving him. His screams of pain were audible for all to hear, but was quickly drowned out by the remains of the Cerberus strike team returning fire.

Falling back behind his crate, he left off a single burst of his SMG into an assault trooper's head before falling behind his cover again, and reloading. He inhaled, and exhaled. He heard Liara giggle, and he could only half-chuckle himself, shaking his head.

This was almost like old times.

**{Loading...}**

_June 2, 2186_

_1303 hours._

_Security Station, Systems Alliance Research Facility, Mars Prothean Archives, Mars._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Well this was certainly fun.

They had been forced to fight through numerous waves of Cerberus troops, of which seemed to be enough to be a battalion as Kaidan suggested, and it hadn't been easy trying to reach the dig site tramway. The terrorist organization fought them tooth and nail every step of the way, and wherever they went, Cerberus was waiting for them with fresh troops. But they broke through all the same, the squad working like a well-oiled machine, including Keeling, and they eventually arrived at the security station.

Only to find that a ceiling turret protecting the station had been hacked by Cerberus, and had immediately opened fire on them when they entered the entrance corridor.

It took a game of hide-and-seek, along with some 'dodgeball' to finally get past the turret and into the security station, taking them out of the turret's operational rotation. Now they were inside, with an entire Cerberus squad fighting harder than ever before to hold the room and make sure they didn't cross the tramway.

Marcus was currently sneaking up behind a shield trooper, which he had learnt were called Guardians, his Piranha shotgun in hand. Crouched a meter from the oblivious trooper, firing his Talon heavy pistol at Keeling behind her cover, he took aim with his shotgun and unloaded into the guardian's side. He cried out in agony as his entire right side opened up from ribs to hips, and his arms were shredded by the widespread. The velocity sent him kereening to the left, where he fell over, his shield dropping ontop of him and the sound of a head being crushed by the shield's sheer weight could be heard, ending the guardian's pain.

Gunfire poured into his barriers as three assault troopers approached, avenger assault rifles in hand and pouring into him. Picking up the guardian's shield but utilizing his cybernetic strength, he brought it infront of him and moved forward, the enemy shots pouring off the metal shield and Marcus firing his shotgun sporadically at them with one hand.

The first shot hit a desk behind the advancing trio, but the second blasted one soldier's head asunder, and the pallet spread from that impacted his comrade in the neck, causing red blood to pour out of his neck and onto the floor as he gasped desperately for breath, dumping his weapon as both hands clasped around his neck, trying to seal off the wound. With only one trooper left to oppose him, he used the shield and wacked the soldier across the side, which effectively ripped his torso clean off his body, shearing it in half. Red blood spurted everywhere, and Marcus reduced the choking soldier's head to a red mist, before moving on to finish the centurion, who had retreated to the back of the room.

Only to find Kaidan already there, omni-blade deep in the centurion's helmet. Kaidan looked up and nodded to him, ripping the blade out and watching it evaporate, followed by a second nod before he went over and joined Keeling and Liara at the security control console. Marcus quickly did the same, but not before reloading his shotgun.

Liara was busy typing at said console, blue hands dancing over the keyboard as she watched the screen before her, which appeared to be security camera footage of the tram below, "There we go. Wait..." a loud beep followed her attempts to override the tram controls, and she cursed as she hit the terminal, "Damn it! I'm completely locked out. I can't override the trams from here. She's smarter than I expected. And quick."

He frowned at her, "Who is?"

She growled, turning to face him, "The traitor. Or the inside agent, I should say. Cerberus' sleeper. She was here before I was, actually, and seemed to have been here a long while. She was one of the researcher; brunette, very attractive. She went by the name Doctor Eva Core. I was suspicious of her from the get go, so I did some research. Turned out she died on Palaven shortly after the First Contact War. And you won't guess who she was friends with."

His confusion only got deeper, "Who?"

"Jack Harper," she stated, but still seeing the confusion, continued, "Who would later write the Cerberus manifesto, and become known as the Illusive Man."

His eyes widened in surprise, "So you think this Eva works for Cerberus now? You think she allowed Cerberus to get in?"

"Yes. Her attack was brutal and efficient, and so was her infiltration. I don't know how she can be alive, as the reports say otherwise, but Cerberus has their ways," she shook her head, "Before we knew what was going on, she had unsealed every airlock in half of the facility. She depressurized that entire area, and removed all oxygen from the air. While half of the facility suffocated from lack of oxygen, the other half was quickly overwhelmed by a large Cerberus force deploying via multiple shuttles. Last I saw of her, she seemed to be leading a Cerberus platoon towards the dig site. We haven't encountered her on the way here, so she must be still there."

With a quick, he motioned to the tram below, "Is there anyway we can activate the tram without the override?"

"How about this?" Keeling offered, and all turned towards her.

She stood there, leaning on one hip and rifle in her grip, "Why don't we just do it the good old fashioned way? We confiscate one of these dead scumbags' radios, and then pretend to be the team reporting in. We'll request reinforcements, and they'll send them over the tram. We kill the reinforcements and commandeer the tram they bring over."

Kaidan grinned, turning to face Marcus, "Glad I brought her along?"

He smirked back, "Certainly am," he turned to Keeling, motioning to the dead centurion, "Confiscate his radio. I need to talk to Liara."

Keeling simply nodded, letting her rifle come to rest on her back as she calmly made her way over to the dead centurion, Kaidan crossing his arms as he stayed in the background. He moved to Liara, who seemed to be watching something. As he looked over her shoulder, he saw she was watching a recording of security footage from not too long ago. He saw the brunette she spoke; and she really was extremely attractive. Her hair was slender and curled infront of her face, her ears were well shaped, her eyes seemed to sparkle with radiance, and her hips were generous to the eye, and her bosom quite large; just as large as Miranda's, actually. She approached a centurion in the tram bay, an entire platoon of assault troopers, guardians and one single type of soldier he didn't recognize reading something of his omni-tool and working at the door. He saw the backpack on his pack, and seeing the omni-tool and the door he was hacking, knew who it was. _A combat engineer. _

Eva spoke, her voice annoyed, "Damn it, that asari should be dead already. Why haven't you found her?"

The centurion responded, voice just as annoyed, "I have men searching the entire facility. We'll find the bitch, and we'll kill her. Simple as that."

"I'm not seeing a blue, tentacle-headed corpse," she growled in response, turning to yell at the engineer, "Have you got the damn trams working?"

The engineer shouted back with the same robotic voice all of them seemed to have, "Affirmative. We've got Alliance marines waiting on the other side. A whole squad."

She snorted, "Makes no matter; we'll kill them. Once we're across, give me direct override of the trams. Noone comes across. _Noone. _I don't care if its the Illusive Man himself, noone is getting across that tramway, you got me?"

"Yes ma'am," the centurion responded.

She looked up, and shook her head, raising a Tempest SMG directly at the camera, "Didn't I tell you I wanted no cameras? Idiot," she fired, and the feed immediately cut to static, and both of them were silent.

"Well if she's ordered them not to let us across, this plan is suddenly moot now, isn't it?" Kaidan asked.

"No," Marcus stated, "She said noone was to come across to their side. We'll be bringing them over here. These troopers seem too dumb to know the difference, so it should work as long-"

"Sir," Keeling piped up, obvious disgust and shock in her tone, "You might want to have a look at this."

All of them turned to Keeling, who had stood up and backed away from the centurion, his helmet lay on the ground beside where Keeling had taken it off and placed it. Marcus walked over and his eyes immediately fell on the soldier's face, eyes widening in horror.

What he saw wasn't human.

It was a bloody husk. A Reaper husk.

_What the fuck has the Illusive Man done? _He crouched, looking over the man's features. His eyes were no longer present, replaced by what looked to be cybernetic optical sensors, and he had no lips; his mouth permanently wide open and showing the radio filter that had been fused into his mouth. His skin was now the pure blue/black of a husk, and all his hair had fallen out and he was now completely bald. This...thing wasn't even remotely human.

"The Illusive Man was always fucked up," Marcus growled, ripping his eyes away from the abomination, "But this is different. This is beyond fucked up. He's turning his own troops into bloody _monsters._"

"What kind of leader does this to his own people and claims to stand for humanity?" Kaidan added sickingly, "This is beyond wrong. This is sick."

"Keeling," Marcus spoke lowly and steadily, steel in his voice as he forced himself to look on the ex-human, "Retrieve the radio from his helmet, and give it to me. Then put his helmet back on. I can't stand to look at his face one minute longer."

Liara looked on solemnly as Keeling did as ordered without flinching, reaching around and pulling the man's radio out, which also seemed to be wired into his brain, and as she yanked and pulled it away, flesh and blood stuck to the wiring and came out with it. Even Keeling seemed on the verge of wretching before she tossed it to Marcus, who caught it up with his hand and put the radio to his mouth, watching it tap against his helmet, "Copy over, this is...," he checked the radio label before putting it back to his vocalizer, "Delta squad, how copy?"

The voice was gruff, but the same robotic tone he recognized from every other soldier; only now he knew where the real voice came from. He felt sick. _Keep it together, soldier. _Clearing his thoughts, he became steel once more, hearing the soldier speak, "About damn time. We expected an update ten minutes ago," hesitation, before the soldier spoke again, "Never mind, what's your status?"

"We need immediate reinforcements! Shepard's team is here!" Marcus imitated, and he saw Kaidan shake his head in amusement, "Requesting backup, how copy?"

"Solid copy," the soldier replied, "Echo squad will ride over and provide support. Just make sure you keep Shepard alive. The Illusive Man will have something special planned for him."

_Oh, I bet he does. But he ain't turning me into a monster. _Again, thoughts of that abomination popped up. _Jack Harper, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will __**end **__you. You used to stand for something, and I don't know what happened along the road to fuck it all up, but something did, and now you're going to pay for it. But the Reapers must come first. _"Copy that; we'll kill the rest of his squad and take Shepard hostage. We'll hold them until Echo gets here. Come in guns blazing."

The comms disconnected before anything else could be said, and Marcus tossed it aside, drawing his weapon, "Okay, let's get down there and be ready to take them by surprise."

"Did they buy it?" Kaidan asked.

"Hook, line and sinker," Marcus replied, grinning, "Let's just be ready for them."

With Liara by his side, he made his way down the right side to stand on the right side of the long, tram door, while Kaidan and Keeling assumed positions on the other side. They all went into crouch, Liara with her SMG at the ready, and everyone else with primed assault rifles aimed and fingers on their triggers. The biotics glowed with dark energy, and Keeling got ready to prime a grenade and throw it.

It wasn't long before the screech of a tram moving towards them could be heard. They stiffened upon hearing it, their bodies knowing that combat would soon be upon them once more and Marcus felt his omni-shield spring to life in his hand.

The tram finally arrived, and the large, long blast door slid open, revealing the two-way tramway space. The left side was empty, but the right side was now occupied as the tram arrived, a small door opening and allowing the troops to spill out. A guardian lead the charge, shield raised in front of him, followed by a centurion, a combat engineer, and numerous assault troopers. There was 12 of them overall; his team could easily handle them.

Liara launched a warp field directly into the guardian's exposed flank, sending him flying into Kaidan and Keeling's position, where Keeling finished the trooper off with an omni-blade stab into his helmet. Marcus charged forward, his omni-shield deflecting the shots of the retaliating assault troopers and he slammed into the combat engineer, the golden visored soldier having been in the middle of typing into his omni-tool when he was hit.

Charging a biotic fist, Marcus slammed it into his visor, shattering it on impact and stunning the engineer. Charging forth again, he swept the soldier's legs out from under him, causing him to fall forwards and allowing Marcus to raise his weapon to the back of his head, bypass the engineer's kinetic barriers, and fire, splattering his brain matter on the floor.

His kinetic barrier crackled and popped, but he quickly rose his omni-shield again, protecting himself from the hail of gunfire. He watched one trooper's head explode, followed by Liara using her biotics to pick up one of them and throw them off the edge, screaming to their death. Kaidan and Keeling appeared, their fire cutting down numerous assault troopers before they finally managed to retreat and assume fire, the Cerberus attackers attempting a defensive movement.

With Keeling engaging the centurion in hand-to-hand, Marcus and Kaidan moved forward, using their assault rifles to keep the troopers pinned. When they finally arrived, they both leapt over the railing and into the tram, taking the enemy soldiers by surprise. By the time they turned to assess the threat, they were cut down. One assault trooper aimed a weapon whip at Kaidan's face, but the marine easily ducked under it, ramming his omni-blade into his armoured chest and twisting, before pulling out and letting him slide to the floor.

Liara arrived, and they all turned to watch just as the centurion managed to hook Keeling across the face, stunning her temporarily. She kicked him in the chest, but the centurion seemed barely fazed by it, and kicked back. Keeling blocked it, sidestepping backwards and out of the leader's reach. But in a flash, like the speed of lightning, the centurion moved forward and grabbed her shoulders, slamming his head forward and into hers.

If not for her helmet, her skull would have cracked with the impact. She flew backwards and into a wall, the N7 simply not fast enough to keep up with the centurion's superior cybernetics. The centurion advanced on her just as Liara moved to raise her weapon, only to stop as a gunshot was heard; the sound of a Talon heavy pistol being fired. A second shot echoed through the room, and his head exploded, followed by his body falling backwards and onto the ground, revealing the form of Keeling holding the smoking barrel of a Talon pistol, before she dropped the weapon and stood to her feet, approaching them.

"You okay, Keeling?" Marcus asked as she stepped inside, Kaidan activating the tram as soon as they were inside. Liara closed the gate, and they all made sure their helmets were sealed as the depressurization door opened and the one behind them closed, revealing, once again, the oxygenless plains of the red planet, "That centurion gave you one hell of a beating."

"Nothing I didn't handle, sir," she replied, unhooking her Hurricane SMG and letting it small into her grip, "I'll walk it off. Bastard was damn fast; never seen a man move that fast, especially in heavy armor."

"Cerberus has given their troops upgrades. Did you see the way that combat engineer typed into his omni-tool?" Kaidan asked, shaking his head, "Even Tali could not type that fast; only Legion could outmatch that," he eyed Marcus, "Maybe the Illusive Man has given them cybernetic implants, like he did you."

Marcus shrugged, "Yeah, maybe. And if that's true, that just makes Cerberus a greater enemy than we thought. But right now we must focus on getting to that library. Liara?"

The asari was at his side in an instant, pointing ahead, "The dig site is just behind that door. I'll handle the security; but once inside, the Library will be inside the site. We'll download the information, kill Eva if we have to, and leave. But we need that intel. It holds our salvation, Shepard," she seemed desperate, and he understood how she felt.

_Failure is not an option. I will not allow Cerberus to get away with that library._

"They seem to be unaware of our presence, Shepard," Kaidan pointed out, taking cover behind the opaque railing, "Might take them by surprise."

Marcus nodded to him, motioning Keeling and Liara to crouch behind the railing, whilst Marcus did the same, joining Kaidan. He pulled out his Hurricane SMG, and turned back to the major, slamming in a fresh thermal clip, "I just hope we're not too late to the party."

Kaidan nodded back, pulsing with biotics as he readied his N7 Paladin pistol, "So do I."

The tram travelled in relative silence, but as they looked outside, they could easily see that the sandstorm was almost upon them; Mars' landscape was slowly transforming as the wall of sand and electricity pummelled a path of destruction and moved towards the lone alliance facility. As he admired the area, he heard the airlock doors opening, and knew they were here.

Passing through, the door closed again and they unsealed their helmets, allowing them to breathe again. It wasn't long before they reached the second door, and it slid open, revealing the space behind it. He could hear footsteps, obviously those of Cerberus soldiers, as they walked around, but all movement seemed to cease as the tram stopped moving. They must have noticed how empty it was.

"What, where's Echo Squad?" one soldier demanded, "Someone get on that tram and-"

Kaidan leapt up first, his Paladin's sights landing on the nearest target and coughing out hot death. Marcus quickly joined his assault, SMG complimenting Keeling's, of the same type, as they ripped into four assault troopers on the right. Liara brought a biotic barrier to life infront of them, and they mowed into the Cerberus troopers, who were initially too shocked to return fire, but when they did, they were organized.

The assault troopers were used as cannon fodder as the centurion used his mattock to shatter the window of the security console before leaping into the room, taking cover behind the main console. Two doors on either side of the room, which sat in the middle, shot open, and on both sides was a guardian advancing into the room, a full compliment of assault troopers behind them. Two combat engineers appeared, and took off their backpacks and placing them on the ground.

Fearing they were explosives, Marcus charged up and let a biotic warp let fly, aiming it at the box. Upon impact, it seemed to explode in the engineer's face, the shrapnel shredding his body into bloody ribbons, and sending his mutilated corpse flying into a wall, where it plopped down on the ground. He did the same with the second engineer, and the same result presented itself.

Liara dropped her barrier and charged forward, sending a biotic shockwave cascading into the nearest guardian. The velocity and force sent the shield flying from his grip, allowing Liara to empty her Tempest SMG into his back. Before the troopers around her could completely deplete her shields, she raised a biotic barrier around herself, before letting it implode, the sheer magnitude of it sending everyone around her flying.

Keeling primed another grenade and tossed it into the security room, before charging forward, SMG roaring. Kaidan and Marcus followed, both of them laying fire down with their own weapons; their shields were depleted by the time they reached the security junction, their barriers were depleted and their armor potmarked with bullet holes, but luckily most of them were grazings and hadn't drawn blood. The bodies of numerous Cerberus soldiers lay around them, and they watched as Keeling strafed next to the guardian and rammed her SMG into the slot they used for sight, before pulling the trigger, impacting the guardian between the eyes and killing him instantly, cadaver collapsing to the ground, ontop of his shield.

By the time they managed to clean up, the entire room was a battlefield. Assault troopers, a centurion, two combat engineers and two guardians; all of them dead, red blood running through the steel floor. The victory was short and to the point though, and Marcus quickly found himself reloading, along with his squad, and leading Liara, Kaidan and Keeling forward, through one of the doors and into a hall that ended with a large steel door; its haptic interface a dull red.

He lowered his weapon, checking noone was behind them, "Area's clear. This the dig site you were talking about, Liara?"

She nodded, and moved over to the console next to the door, typing into irregularly. A grin split her lips, "It seems this Doctor Core forgot one important thing," she tapped a button, and the haptic interface turned green, before winking out of existence, the door sliding open, "I can hack just as well as she can."

Swapping his SMG for his assault rifle, he moved inside, weapon raised, and his squad covering his rear. As they moved inside, Marcus took the time to examine the massive complex; and massive it was.

The ceiling was high above them, and the floor seemed to be miles below them, looking to be built around a giant hole in the ground; so deep that the darkness concealed its depth. It was circular in shape, with a deactivated drill left unused down below but attached. Four massive support struts kept the place from caving in, and two ring like balconies made up the floor of the area, his team arriving on the outer ring. Each ring had numerous computer consoles, and the inner ring just happened to contain what they were here for. And it too, was also huge.

It looked just like the prothean beacons he had encountered first on Eden Prime, and on Virmire. A large rectangular prism like structure with numerous lines weaved into its grey, smooth surface. This one also hummed with dormant power, and was much larger than its beacon predecessors, and emitted the same green color; a color that seemed to fill the entire room with its light, causing it to have an eerily alien like atmosphere.

Moving around, his team moved towards the center ring before he stopped, turning to Kaidan and Keeling, "You two, secure the outer ring. Make sure Cerberus doesn't get the jump on us, and if you see Eva, do not let her escape. She may have the data, and if she does, we can't risk letting her escape with it. This is too important to let the Illusive Man destroy it with his insanity."

They nodded, Kaidan telling moving off to sweep the right, while Keeling watched the entrance, in a crouch, hidden beside the door and her weapon at the ready. With eyes on their backs, Marcus and Liara approached the main control console infront of the Library, which was encased in a large cylinder like glass tube, and Liara began typing into it, a determined look on her face. Marcus took note of the quantum entanglement communicator pad sitting next to it, and could only assume it was a new addition, considering the technology's relatively new status. He crossed his arms, weapon holstered as he took off his helmet, breathing in air.

Liara continued to type into the console as he waited, "Should have this information downloaded soon. If I can just-"

"Shepard," a familiar, eerily calm, and irritating cool voice, said behind them, and Marcus felt his brow furrow in rage as both of them turned to face the man who was now projected via hologram on the QEC device, the man seeming to be standing, his signature glass of whiskey in hand, and half-topped. His synthetic eyes glowed, and his brown hair was combed as it usually was, the man wearing a basic suit. He didn't seem to be sitting for once either...or smoking.

Marcus growled as he responded, meeting the man's eyes with a cold expression. Liara drew her pistol on the hologram, but noting the projection, quickly holstered it, realizing the vainness of her gesture. Marcus spoke, voice frost, "Illusive Man," he eyed the facility, "I was wondering when you'd make your big opening."

The man waved a dismissive hand, taking a sip of his glass before handing it to someone out of view, the man's form projected in bright blue pixels, "You don't know the half of it. The protheans left us a wealth of information. The most in the galaxy. We've had the Archives for decades," he eyed the library behind them with awe, something that was hard to find in the Illusive Man, "And we've squandered it. I'm merely correcting that mistake."

_I'm not in the mood for his usual bullshit. _Marcus ignored his words, stepping forward, angry, "I don't fucking care what we've squandered. Get to the point. What do you want?"

The man barely acknowledged Marcus, just continuing to look at the artefact. But he did speak, and it held a smug undertone, while also keeping the same calm aura he seemed to inheritantly hold, "What I've always wanted."

Marcus turned to look at the library himself, before turning back to look at the Illusive Man who had now turned to look at Marcus, eyes blank of any form of emotion, "The data in these Archives holds the key to solving the Reaper threat."

He snorted, turning back to Liara to signal her to keep working while he talked to this bastard. Turning back as the asari continued to work, he moved forward, waving a finger in TIM's face, "I've seen your..._solution. _The despicable things you've done to your own bloody men. You've turned them into monsters. Worse, you've turned them into _husks. _You might as well hand yourself to the Reapers on a silver platter."

The Illusive Man shook his head, sighing heavily, "Hardly. They're being improved," he waved his own hand in the captain's face, unwilling to acknowledge the truth behind Marcus' words, "That's what seperates me...from you, Shepard. Where you see a means to destroy, I see a means to control. To dominate the Reapers. To harness their power, and use it to advance humanity. Imagine how powerful humanity would be...if we controlled them. The galaxy would bow to us; like they should rightly have done thirty years ago."

Marcus looked at him with disgust, unable to believe the words pouring from the man's mouth. _He's deluded. This...is too much. The Illusive Man could not possibly be this stupid to think that the Reapers can simply be controlled like that. _

He laughed, shaking his head as he eyed the Illusive Man with a humorless smile, "You're an idiot, Illusive Man. You cannot seriously believe you can control the Reapers. They are simply too powerful. The only way to win this war is to control them and with the weapon hidden in these databanks," he pointed at Liara and the console, "We can make that reality. We can stop this threat, once and for all. We can break the cycle of extinction."

The Illusive Man shook his head, as if scolding a bad child, "Your vision is pathetically limited," with an exasperated sigh, he moved to his chair, picking up a cigarette and placing it in his mouth, turning back to Marcus as he lit it with a lighter and put the lighter away, taking the cigarette away from his mouth as he blew a puff of pixelated smoke, "You were a tool. An agent...with a singular purpose. And despite our differences, you were unbelievably successful. You destroyed the Collectors, and defeated a Human-Reaper, that is no small feat. And defeating the Shadow Broker was quite an impressive achievement. But that is all you were brought back to do. I invested billions of credits in you so you could destroy our enemy, that is all. I never intended for you to be a long term investment, and you've long since overstayed your welcome. Like the rest of the relics in this place, your time is over."

Marcus shook his head, eying the man, "I truly believed you were a person, Illusive Man. Sure, you and your organization have done horrific things in the past, and you may have tried to get me killed numerous times on the Collector campaign, but you provided me with a ship, a crew, an a squad, and weapons. You gave me the tools I needed to defeat our enemy, and I still believe we can destroy the Reapers. Join us. With the amount of resources Cerberus has, we can use it to create this weapon extremely fast. With Cerberus, the Alliance and the rest of the galaxy united, we can stop this threat. Join us, and we can defeat this enemy together."

The Illusive Man seemed to ponder this, before shaking his head with a single ghost of a smile...and then it was, his expression calm again, "You would do better than most, Shepard, and I admire your tenacity, but I don't want the Reapers destroyed. That is simply the way of it. You don't see it my way Shepard, and that's a pity, but I will not allow you to stop my ultimate goal. Humanity will control the Reapers, one way or another."

_Its clear he isn't interested. So be it. _With a scoff, he shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear that," his pleading expression vanished, and his face became furious, "If that's going to be your stance, then enough of this talk. Liara," he turned to the asari, ignoring the Illusive Man's still present form, "Have you got the data?"

"Working on it," Liara informed him, "The Alliance put alot of encryption on this, but I'm on the last firewall."

TIM was desperate to make himself heard, but his voice came off as mildly irritated, "Don't get in my way, Shepard. I won't warn you again."

He turned to the Illusive Man, a snarl in his voice, "Oh, go fuck yourself. I'm done with you."

"Shepard!" Liara exclaimed in shock, slamming her hands against the console in frustration.

Alarm crossed his features, and he was moving forward in an instant and leaning over her, looking down on the terminal, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The schematics! The data! Its not here! The whole system's been erased! Wait," she typed a few commands into it and sighed in relief, "No, someone's wiped the system and has moved the data into a secure folder, and is downloading it remotely. I'm going to trace it. But we have to be quick! If they complete the download, we'll lose the data!"

Marcus, in anger, snapped around, prepared to meet the Illusive Man's eyes. When he did turn around, there was nothing, the QEC's hum dumming down to silence and his form blinking out of existence. He could imagine the smug thoughts going through the bastard's head. He almost panicked. _No! I cannot lose this data! It is our only hope of-_

"Got it!" Liara exclaimed, turning to him, "The download...the point of origin is literally within this room," she pointed at a small, walled hub behind one of the support struts closest to the entrance, "Coming from that terminal."

He turned to her, pulling his helmet into place with a click, "Bet you its Doctor Core."

She nodded in agreement, and he commed Kaidan, who was fast approaching them, "Kaidan, the hub you're approaching is the source of a download. Find and stop whoever is doing it before they escape with it! Kill them if you have to, just don't let them get away!"

Kaidan nodded to him in the distance, before responding verbally over the radio, "Copy that." And with that, Kaidan disappeared behind the strut, Marcus turning back to his asari friend, who was currently in the process of trying to hack into the forged folder. Just as he moved to stand at her side, he heard the sound of armor hitting the ground, and a grunt. A grunt that sounded like it came from Kaidan.

He spun on the spot, his SMG in hand in a split second and aimed upwards, along with Liara's. They watched as Kaidan lay sprawling on the ground and the lithe form of Eva Core leapt over him, coming to stand at the steps, holding what looked to be an OSD in her hand. She gave them a blank stare, omni-tool aglow. With one final glance in their direction, she turned away, her movements robotic, as he ran up to Keeling and slammed a fist into her face, sending the N7 sprawling on the ground. Wasting no time, Eva sprinted past her, and through the way they came. Marcus and Liara were in close pursuit.

"You okay, Kaidan?"

"I'm fine!" he called out as he crawled to his feet, "Don't let her get away! GO! I'll catch up! JUST GO!"

Marcus had already been sprinting at the first 'go' and only Liara stuck around to hear the rest before turning to follow the captain, who was already sprinting out the door. Liara stayed behind to aid Keeling in getting up instead, and would also catch up.

As he ran through the doorway, he watched Eva leap through the shattered glass window of the security desk and roll over the corpse of a dead guardian, before turning to see if she had been pursued. Seeing Marcus barrelling straight at her, she keyed her omni-tool and launched an incinerate at him, one which his shields blocked, and merely blinded him temporarily. When his sight cleared, she was gone.

He cursed, fearing he had lost her when he heard the sound of a door opening, and as he turned left, he saw Eva rushing through and onto the dig site's roof, obviously heading for the landing pad ontop, the winds outside having now picked up. Sealing his helmet, he continued pursuit, his cybernetic legs pushing him as far as he would go to pick up with the incredibly fast sprinter, the man holstering his SMG just to gain more speed.

Rushing outside, he felt the winds of Mars batter against him and chill him to the bone, but he ignored them and kept running. He leapt over crates and piping, keeping his eyes on Eva in fear of her disappearing from sight. She didn't turn around for one second, and just kept on going, the woman never seeming to tire. _How bloody fast is this woman? I thought she was a doctor, not an athlete!_

They ran through a tunnel, before Eva reached the end and swerved left and up a ramp. Marcus stopped and turned to follow her, watching the Cerberus agent climb up a metal ladder to the landing pad. He heard Liara shouting at him from behind, but merely ignored as he leapt up the ramp and jumped onto the ladder, his hand clasping around Eva's foot half way up the climb.

The woman looked down in an instant, head turning at an irregular angle. Eyes widening, he watched as she reared her other foot up and then down, the swift velocity carrying it straight into his visor, cracking it with the impact and sending him falling onto his back. He could only watch as she continued to climb up, as if swatting a fly.

He heard Keeling's voice in the background as his vision blurred for a moment, "Normandy! We need extraction immediately! Cortez, do you read? Does anyone hear me? We need extraction and backup! Target is escaping with mission critical intel. Requesting assistance, over!"

Kaidan leapt over him and landed on the ladder, climbing with lightning fast ferocity. By the time Marcus finally got control of his senses and got to his feet, Liara arriving beside him, Kaidan was already up and over, and disappeared above. Marcus quickly climbed up the ladder as well, followed by Keeling, then Liara.

His head peeked over the edge as he finished his trek up the ladder, and his eyes widened in horror. A Cerberus kodiak shuttle sat hovering over the platform, Eva having leapt into it, and now turning towards a running Kaidan. Two assault troopers helped her inside while another two fired at Kaidan, who offered counterfire. He managed to take down one trooper, who fell out of the shuttle and to his death, before the hatch slammed shut and began to ascend.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Marcus cried, leaping the final steps and onto the platform, his avenger rifle out and firing, but his shots pinged harmlessly off the shuttle's hull, and were harmless. Kaidan did the same, anger contorting his face. Marcus joined his side, but as the rest of the team joined them, they could only continue to watch as it continued its ascent.

His rifle screamed at him as he continued to hold his trigger down on the empty weapon, and he dropped the weapon, sighing with defeat. _Why can't...it ever...be simple..._The chances of winning this war now was pathetically slim, and without-

Almost out of nowhere, they heard the growing sounds of another kodiak. Then, out of the blue like a guardian angel, Cortez's shuttle appeared, shooting towards the Cerberus shuttle at high speed...

...and it wasn't stopping.

Watching in sheer amazement, the alliance kodiak slammed into the Cerberus shuttle's side, sending it spinning as its rear engines were sheared off from the impact. The alliance shuttle itself seemed to have some of its bow cave in, but overall, it was still airborne. The same could not be said for the Cerberus vessel.

Still spinning, fires danced in its hull before being burnt out by the lack of oxygen. It spun and spun, and rapidly descended towards them. Marcus ordered them to duck, and just as they hit the deck, the shuttle slammed into the ground infront of them, the bow section completely caving in and likely pulverizing the pilot, before the shuttle came to rest, luckily not exploding. Just the crash would have killed Eva and everyone else inside. Once again flames danced and then died, unable to breathe.

For a few moments, all of them simply stood there, in awe of their savior, and the now completely totalled Cerberus kodiak, and the likely mutilated passengers. _Well...worries of them escaping are now moot._

Liara had fallen to the ground from the impact of the shuttle hitting, and Kaidan moved over to help her up, while Keeling signalled Cortez's shuttle down, which was descending just as rapidly as it arrived. Marcus, joining Keeling as Kaidan made sure Liara was alright, watched as the shuttle didn't even hover before landing it; it just plopped down onto the ground, a loud bang heard as it hit. On the other side was now Kaidan and Liara with the Cerberus shuttle, and on this side was the hatch, himself and Keeling.

He approached to open the hatch, but watched as it opened of its own accord. He opened his mouth to berate Cortez for his crazy flying, only to stop as James emerged, the man holding his head and shaking it.

Eyes meeting, James merely shrugged, "What?"

"Where's Cortez?" Marcus asked, confused.

"In here," a voice moaned, and as they looked, they watched Cortez emerge in an EVA suit, the man clearly displeased, and showing it even more with the glares he shot James, "I'm still in one piece...remarkably."

"What was with the crazy flying?" Marcus asked him, grinning.

Cortez shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh, "Me? No, that's curtesy of Mister Vega," he waved an over dramatic hand at the bulky marine, "Crazy bastard said 'we won't get there in time. We need to move faster' and pushed me aside. Next thing I know, I'm thrown into the hatch because this is insanist decided it was a great idea to practically throw a _forty billion credit _piece of hardware at another shuttle!"

"Forty billion? I thought it was only thirty," James replied, but noticing the look Marcus gave him, sighed, scratching the back of his neck, "Hey, we had to react quickly or they'd get away. Getting a firing solution would have taken too long; I thought...it'd be faster just to ram 'em."

"Typical thoughts of a thick jarhead," Cortez teased.

James seemed about to retort when Marcus spoke, shaking his head, "We'll talk about your treatment of highly-expensive property later. Just consider yourself lucky we have a second shuttle."

Nodding in agreement, they moved into the shuttle, only for Marcus to remember the data, "I'll be right back. I need to grab that data," but as he said these words, he heard banging, like something kicking metal. Another bang, followed by another. The sound soon became louder when the bang have a resounding thud, and all fell silent.

Then he heard a pistol discharging multiple times. _What?_

He ran around the shuttle to find Liara on the ground again, blood pouring from a broken nose. The asari reset it, and as she turned around, Marcus did as well. He found the source of the banging; the hatch from the destroyed shuttle had been blown off and lay a few meters away, which had been the source of the thud. And standing not far away, was Eva...or what looked like Eva.

Her skin and face had melted away, revealing herself to be, in fact, a synthetic. An AI. _No wonder she looked so robotic. _Her hair was now a metal, chrome outfit, and her eyes were surrounded by a blue interface. Her breasts were revealed to be nothing but metal bumps, and the rest of her body was basically the same. Multiple bullet holes marred her surface where Kaidan had opened fire, but failed to kill it. But right now, Eva was standing there, likely the reason for Liara's broken nose, holding a certain someone by the face with a strong, five-fingered hand.

Kaidan simply hung there, grasping at her hand, desperately trying to wriggle free.

His SMG was unhooked in seconds, taking aim at the robot, but he couldn't get a sight on the damn thing because Kaidan was in the way. He watched as Eva tapped a comm unit on the side of her head, metal lips parting to speak, "Orders?"

He growled. _Illusive Man, you fucking piece of shit._

The synthetic seemed to receive her orders, and what Eva did next left him powerless. He could only watch as the synthetic changed grips to the back of Kaidan's neck, before dragging him over to the shuttle, and with as much strength as synthetically possible, began ramming the front of his helmet into the crashed vessel's hull, again and again and again.

_**"Kaidan!" **_He roared, beginning to fire into the thing's back. _I lost Ashley, I am not losing you! Not again! I will not lose anymore of my friends! Not now! Not by you! _Eventually, his attacks got Eva's notice, and she dropped Kaidan, the marine long having been knocked unconscious, and his body slumped onto the ground, head lulling to the side. Eva turned towards him and with lightning speed began sprinting towards him, with the intent of doing the same to him.

His SMG ran out of ammo just as the bitch arrived and with a quickness that took Eva by surprise, quickly dropped it and grabbed the arm she had been using to punch him around the wirst. His grip tightened, stopping her from being able to escape and he rammed his head forwards, slamming it into Eva's. Her interface faded in and out from the impact, and he heard metal crack from the impact, but he kept up his assault, rage flowing through his veins.

He kneed her in the chest just as she was working up a kick, and quickly brought another knee into her face once more. She reeled back, but rapidly recovered, turning and side-kicking him into his ribcage, and causing him to double backwards. Noticing the synthetic was now on one-leg, he ducked under her leg and swept the other one out from under her, causing her to fall to the ground in a heap.

With the synthetic downed, he unhooked her pistol and put it to her forehead, teeth gritted as he leaned in, eyes meeting her blank ones, "Tell the Illusive Man this. Fuck you."

A pistol barked, and Eva went limp, her body ceasing all movement as the pistol entered her temple, blowing out her circuitry. Wind battered against him as she simply crouched there, eyes never moving from Eva's body. _Noone hurts my friends. Noone. I already lost Ashley, I'm not losing anyone else. I lost Pressly, Johnson. I lost them. But I'm not __**losing anyone else.**_

James was at his side, and he broke from his thoughts, slapping the man on the shoulder, "Get this...thing onto the shuttle. I want EDI analyzing it as soon as possible. Make sure its dead before you take it to the...VI...core, and put it down. I don't want it waking up and having instant access to EDI's database. Now move, Lieutenant! Don't object, just bloody do it!"

James nodded without hesitation, moving to scoop up Eva's body in his arms while Marcus got up and jogged over to Kaidan's limp form, crouching over him tenderly, "Kaidan. Kaidan, talk to me. Come on, Alenko. Talk to me, that's an order!"

The man did not budge, or speak, or even batter an eyelash. He simply lay there, unmoving. Marcus checked for a pulse, and sighed with relief as he found one, but it was very feint. He needed medical attention, and fast. _The Citadel...Huerta Memorial...if I can get Kaidan there they can save him. _

He patted the man on the shoulder, moving to heft him up, "Hang in there, soldier. You don't get to die yet. None of us do. We've got a job to do first, and we're only just getting started."

The roar of the Normandy's engines was heard over him as he slung Kaidan over his shoulder effortlessly, and as he turned around, he saw the frigate looming over the platform, casting its shadow over them, and its shuttle bay door hung open and banging against the floor. Joker's voice shouted into his comm, "Shepard, we have to go! EDI's detected Reaper forces in orbit; at least five Sovereign-Class capital ships, and seven Destroyers. There's also thirty-two Tarantula-Class Troop Transports, as they've identified them. We need to leave now!"

He heard the urgency in the pilot's voice and immediately spun as he heard the familiar sound of an airhorn, watching as a Reaper capital ship landed nearby, the impact of its landing causing the ground to shake beneath it. A Reaper destroyer landed just infront of the sandstorm, roaring its victory. As he looked up, he saw the sky was alight with fire; the Reapers obviously had destroyed the space stations and shipyards in orbit, and were moving to the surface. Earth had fallen, and now the rest of the Sol System was about to follow.

Turning away, he ran up to the shuttle bay door, and stepped onto it. James was already rushing inside with Eva in his arms, while Keeling held Liara under arm, the asari cradling her broken nose, purple blood oozing from her nostrils, while Cortez rushed past her. By the time Marcus was off the ramp, the frigate was already lifting off, and he looked at Mars for the last time before the door shut away the view. It would be the last planet he ever saw in his home system for a very long time.

Inhaling, he then exhaled, steeling himself for the battles to come. _This war will likely destroy me, but I won't let it do it lightly. I will not stop until the Reapers are destroyed, the Illusive Man is dead, and Cerberus is in ruins. We cannot lose. We must not lose. It'll mean the destruction of all galactic life as we know it if we do._

He commed his helmet once more, speaking to Joker in a rough tone, "Get us out of here, Joker. Head for the Andura Sector and link up with the rest of the alliance naval forces there. We'll head to the Citadel together."

"Got ya Shepard," Joker sighed, "Its hard leaving."

"Its going to get harder," he growled, hating the acid in his tone as he increased his pace to the elevator, afraid if he stayed he might reconsider leaving, "Best get used to it. This war's only just begun, and now two players are on the field."

As the elevator doors closed behind him, and he shuffled Kaidan's unconscious weight on his shoulder, he cut the comm, and became what the galaxy needed him to be.

Captain or not, Commander Shepard was back in action.

**"So that's when you first encountered Cerberus on the battlefield? When you learnt of the Illusive Man's intent?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Indeed. And it wouldn't be the last. There would be many and more battles before the war is over. But the Reapers were always the main threat. Even Cerberus knew that."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So you linked up with the fleets in the Andura sector, and headed for the Citadel. What happened then?"**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"We talked to the Council. And again, the idiocy was palpable. But this time it was out of terror...not ignorance. I had never seen them so terrified."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**You believed me dead? You thought wrong. He's another chapter to prove that.**_

_**The chapters following this will be largely based on the Citadel, but do not worry. Shepard will be running into quite a few friends along the way.**_

_**Please leave reviews and Keelah Se'lai!**_


	4. Chapter 3 Undeserved Splendor

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER THREE:**

**UNDESERVED SPLENDOR**

_June 2, 2186_

_1346 hours._

_Medical Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL inbound for Andura Sector._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

He rushed through the medical bay door, the metal parting with a metallic hiss. He was in the bay in an instant, rushing towards the nearest bed in an instant, Kaidan's limp form still hefted over his shoulder as he moved with best speed. Liara wasn't far behind him, followed by James, with Eva in his arms, and Keeling, removing her helmet as she did so. Cortez had stayed in the shuttle bay so he could look after the armoury while James was absent.

He moved over to the bed, his first impression of the medical bay being that Kaidan was right; the medical bay hadn't changed at all, and even the AI core looked unmolested by the retrofit. _Probably never got around to changing it. _He slowly and gently lay Kaidan on his back on the bed, making sure his dead was placed on the pillow before slowly unsealing his helmet, placing it on the table next to him. Looking back, he saw the mangled mess that was Kaidan's face.

His hair was all rustled and tossed all over his face, with some of it sticking to the wet blood on his face. Black bruises covered his features, with one eye swollen shut and a large bump on his lower lip. His nose was broken and bleeding profusely, and he had scabs on his face, some of them having split, causing small bits of blood to ooze out. All in all, the man looked like shit.

Turning around, he saw James carry the accused towards the AI Core, moving through the self-opening doorway as he carried Eva's body to the table at the end; the same table he had Legion lay on when he first met the geth. The door quickly shut behind the marine, and Liara stood on the other side of the table, looking down at Kaidan with tired eyes, shaking her head. She turned to look at him, analyzing his features.

"Shepard..." she began tenderly, hand squeezing his arm, "Kaidan needs help. There's nothing more we can do but get him to a hospital."

"I know," Marcus replied grouchily, feeling Keeling's presence behind him. He finally looked up, removing his helmet as he did and seating it under his arm, meeting Liara's eyes, "I know. The fleets will be in Andura. We'll link up with what's left of the Alliance military, and we'll make for the Citadel. Once there...I plan to hand Kaidan over to Huerta Memorial. They looked after Jack when she was hurt on the Shadow Broker's base, and they'll look after Kaidan. Best care on the Citadel, I've heard."

"Best care in the galaxy, I heard," Liara replied, smiling grimly, "They'll look after him, Shepard. He's alive, and Kaidan's always been a fighter."

"Sure has," he murmured, remembering the past. _He watched as Ashley died...the woman he secretly loved, and only found out how much she cared when she was about to have her atoms split...damn it, if I had lost him...I would never have forgiven myself. I will not lose Kaidan like I lost Ashley. Never again will I lose a friend like that. Never._ He looked over at Kaidan's closed eyes once more, and remembered what happened on the Constantinople colony, during the Collector campaign a year ago. _And if I'm not wrong, he's got someone else who loves him too...and he might just love her back. We all move on..._

_Hang tight, soldier. Do not die, that's an order._

He watched as Liara began to tenderly undo Kaidan's armor, finding all the latches and removing them. Noticing his frown, the asari explained what she was doing, "If he wakes up in his armor, it'll only had to the pain. He'll be more comfortable without it on."

"Okay then," Marcus conceded, and turned towards Keeling, who had removed her helmet for the first time since he met her, revealing her full face to him. Come to think of it, he didn't even know what she looked like until now. Everytime he had met her in the past, she had been wearing a helmet. This was very different.

The first thing he noted was her flowing hair; it was bright orange, like that of fire. It curled to the back of her neck, and one piece hung infront of her face, before she head-tossed it back onto her scalp. She had plump red lips, with not much eyeshadow, but hazel eyes. Her ears were short and not very pointy, and she had a few freckles on one side of her face, but nowhere near as many as Tali had. Overall, he was surprised by how attractive she was.

Her helmet hung under one arm, and she snapped a firm salute, "Sir."

He sighed, "There's alot of things you're going to have to get used to living on this ship Keeling, and one of them is dropping this rank bullshit," he grinned, not meaning to sound hostile, "I also think its time for proper introductions. We didn't get much time on Arcturus, and even less on Earth."

"Fair enough," she replied.

He held out his hand, deciding to start with names, "I am Captain Marcus Lee Shepard. You can call me Shepard; everyone else does."

She took the hand, shaking it firmly, "I am Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling. I prefer to be called Keeling; my first name is reserved for people of family."

"Keeling, huh?" he replied, nodding his head, "Good enough for me. On this ship, we live by one rule; follow my orders. Aside from that, we're set. You can set up where you choose if you want, but I guess it won't matter if you're planning a transfer."

"I originally served Admiral Drescher sir," she told him, "But with the admiral dead, I have no fleet to report to. It would be best to concede to your command, sir. As I hear it, this ship could do with an N7."

He smirked, raising an eyebrow, "You do realize I'm an N7 too, right?"

"This ship could do with two N7s, sir," she replied, correcting herself, "Considering the threat we face, having two special forces operative would be beneficial to the team."

"Indeed," he replied, "Very well. Like I said, choose where you want to set up shop. I can already assume James has taken the armoury, and Liara will take the lab, I bet, but the rest of the options are open to you. Until then, you're dismissed. We should have a talk later."

"Anything you need sir," she snapped another salute, before dropping it automatically. With that, she marched out of the bay, and he could only continue to smile. _I think Keeling and I will get along just fine. James however...I might need to get whatever is wrong between me and him sorted out soon. _He found his feelings drifting back to Keeling. _Damn, she was really attractive. For an N7. Damn it, Shepard! Get those thoughts out of your head. You're married, for godsake._

He pictured Tali, and remembered how beautiful she was. How much he loved her. How much he missed her. _I'll find you Tali...and the first thing I'll do is hold you. Wherever you are._

"Shepard?" EDI called over the PA just as James exited the AI Core, clearly flabbergasted. Realizing the AI had been talking to him and Liara was still busy removing Kaidan's armor, he responded, turning to face the AI's purple hologram on the console next to the door.

"Sorry. Yes, EDI?"

"Do not apologize Captain," EDI replied, "Admiral Hackett wishes to speak to you on the QEC. He is requesting an update on the mission to Mars. Should I simply tell him, or would you like to speak to him yourself?"

Marcus shot one more glance in Kaidan's direction, seeing that Liara had removed most of his armor, with only his kneepads and boots left. His weapons were dumped unceremoniously on the floor next to the bed. He nodded, but as he turned back to the hologram, he was interrupted by James exclaiming.

"There it goes again!" he pointed out, "That's no VI!"

Marcus sighed, turning to the marine with a weery gaze, before turning away, fixing his glare on the AI, "EDI, you can explain this to him. Liara, make sure James doesn't try to kill her afterwards. EDI, route the communique through to the QEC. I'll be right there," he moved through the medical bay door, and was about to continue when he stopped suddenly in the mess hall, remembering this ship had changed alot, "EDI...where is the QEC _now _located?"

The AI's response was instantaneous, and he swore he could hear a smile in her voice, "Go through the debriefing room; it is where the Tech Lab was once located. Go through to the back, through the War Room, and it is located in the back. I will feed the connection through once you are there."

He nodded, and continued walking through the mess hall, which had barely changed and into the small corridor at the back; where Life Support and Starboard Observation sat on the right, and the Crew's Quarters and Port Observation on the left. But as he turned to enter the elevator, he noticed something new sitting in the middle of the corridor's bulkhead wall; where the words 'Crew Deck' used to sit. And as he turned around, he felt his features slacken at the sight.

It was a memorial wall. No, not just a memorial wall. The _Normandy's _memorial wall. He remembered that it was standard procedure for every ship to honor their dead, and therefore their name would be placed on the wall, so that the ship's crew would never forget them. He didn't remember if the Normandy SR-1 had a memorial wall, but it was obvious the SR-2 did. On it were the names of all those who died when the SR-1 was destroyed over Alchera...and those...before...

The middle of the wall was saved for superior officers; captain, admiral, etc. That part of the wall was empty. But the sides weren't. He read all the names. And every single one of them hit home just how many had died when the SR-1 was attacked by the Collector cruiser. But only a select few hit home.

_Master Chief Petty Officer Charles Pressly._

_Petty Officer Second Class Frederick Deve Johnson._

_Engineer First Class Douglas Ahtaq. _

_Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams._

_Lance Corporal Richard Lenard Jenkins._

_Ensign Susannah Peters._

They were like a long line of torture; every name stinging his mind. Knowing that they either died fighting an enemy they couldn't identify, were gunned down due to terrible tactics, or reduced to nothing by a nuclear detonation. Every single one of them had been under his command, and he had failed them. And so many spots were still empty. Ready to be filled.

_I have a feeling many and more will be joining that wall before the war is over. Its bad knowing you can't win, its worse knowing that no matter what you do, you can't save them all. _He was just glad to know that Kaidan would not be joining the wall today. He managed to pull his eyes away from the wall, moving up to the elevator and thumbing its summoning mechanism.

It didn't take long for the elevator to reach the CIC; either they upgraded the elevator to not be a slow piece of shit, or his perception of time had improved. Either way, thank god for that. As soon as the doors opened, he was greeted by the bright, white light of the galaxy map, hanging lowly above the CIC command station. Multiple alliance officers moved about, and he noticed that someone else now stood at Kelly's station.

She must have had hearing like a bat, because upon the doors opening, the woman immediately turned around and, noticing who it was, snapped a salute, "Captain on deck!" At that instant, everyone stopped what they were doing and like robots reacting to stimuli, turned to him and snapped salutes just as firm.

He examined the woman's features, the one he remembered Kaidan calling Comms Specialist Samantha Traynor. She was quite attractive, and she seemed to take her duties seriously, if the firmness of her salute was any consolation.

He rolled his eyes, sighing exasperatedly, "Enough with the salutes, for godsake. Didn't I say I didn't run a tight ship? I'm just your commander, that's it. It may be an alliance ship, but I ain't," noticing noone was budging, he sighed once more, returning the salute reluctantly, "At ease," everyone finally dropped their hands, and he dropped his own. _Another thing that needs changing. _He approached Samantha at her station, nodding curtly.

"Captain Shepard," Samantha greeted, "Samantha Traynor. I'm the ship's communications specialist. I was meant to be here for the tech upgrades _only..._but...for obvious reasons...that..."

He sighed, patting Samantha's shoulder. She seemed to flinch away at that, seemingly disgusted by the gesture, but just as quickly, it was gone. He retracted his hand regardless, and merely spoke, "I know leaving Earth was hard, but we'll be back. And we'll be back with a

big armada to take it back."

"I know we will, captain. We've got the great Commander Shepard leading us," Samantha said cheerily, "I heard of what you did during the Eden Prime War and the Collector abductions. Everyone knows what you can do. I bet even the children of our generation have heard the stories of the Normandy crew."

_More hero worship. Does it ever end? _

He smiled weakly, "Glad to hear it, Traynor. We'll have to talk later."

She smiled, nodding meekly, "Sounds good sir," she then turned back to her station, and Marcus continued his trek towards what used to be the Tech Lab, and was now home to the new debriefing room.

As soon as he tapped the interface, he was confronted with a whole new setup in the originally pointless box between the CIC and the Lab (and it was still just as pointless). A whole checkpoint sat in the middle, with two marines on station on either side of the metal detector; which was effectively a blue, holographic grid positioned in the middle of a 'doorway-shaped' frame. A weapons bench lay to the left, and it currently had a steaming hot mug of coffee sitting on its surface in a blue, polymer cup.

Both marines snapped salutes upon his entry, "Sir!" they both shouted, and he reciprocated the gesture. He moved to pass through the detector, only to be stopped by one of the marines, Westmoreland her tag said, who quickly spoke to him in a explanatory tone, "Sir, you have to let the detector scan you first."

He sighed, turning towards her and waving his arms over his body, "Two things, trooper. One: I'm clearly wearing battle armor and numerous weapons, so that bloody thing is going to wail like a banshee. Two: Do I really look like I'm going to blow up my own damn ship? The only thing I plan to blow up on this ship is the hull, and that's because of the ugly colors that now paint it. Now let me through, private. I have an important call to make with Admiral Hackett, and I'm not letting some stupid, pointless, metal detector stop me."

The soldier seemed lost for words but quickly recovered herself as he moved past, hitting the interface for the door on the other side and moving into the debriefing room, "Yes sir! Whatever you say, si-" the door closed on her, sealing behind him.

His eyes glazed over the room, and he sighed heavily with annoyance at what the Alliance had done to the place. Any evidence of Mordin's lab had been removed from the place; the only remnant was the observation window on the left side. The corridor linking the armoury to the lab, and allowing access to the original conference room that had been located on the right was now indeed missing, the door replaced by a grey, steel bulkhead, and doubtless more. Many crates aligned the room, along with many wires over the floor. Some of the ceiling was unfinished, and lighting was darker in some areas.

The entire left side was now home to the debriefing table; which had simply been ripped from the conference room and dumped here, and surrounded with a square-pane of glass. The observation window had been extended, all of Mordin's equipment, tubes and even his desk had been removed, and the area that had once housed the observation window allowing a view of the drive core below was gone, replaced by another bulkhead, and to the right of that was a new door; likely the War Room's. Overall, he disliked the new layout.

_Can't believe I'm saying this, but the Illusive Man definitely built a better ship. Cerberus built a better ship. And now the Alliance has butchered it._

He continued to move through the room, clad in his alliance armor and alliance weapons. He seemed to growl with every passing step. _Cerberus was keen to remind me that this was their ship, and now the Alliance seems content to do just the same. There isn't insignias on every wall, but there's enough blue and white to send anyone insane. I feel like punching a bulkhead right now, actually._

He quickly hit the haptic interface for the door ahead, and he had to admit; he was blown away by what he saw waiting behind it.

The War Room was a large, spherical room, with two levels; the upper level, which he currently stood on, and the lower, central level, all the levels moving in a ring. The upper level was only a meter above the central one, and had numerous consoles and terminals surrounding it, almost all of them manned constantly. The central level was home to one, large circular platform; a holotable where currently a blue holographic projection of the galaxy sat; the lower half almost constantly shining red; representing Reaper occupied territory. And at the end of the room, on the upper level, was a doorway leading into the room containing the QEC; his destination.

More salutes followed him as he crossed the room, and he mostly ignored them this time as he marched straight for the QEC. The room itself was pretty basic; a simple railing with a console on it, which controlled the communicator itself. The QEC sat behind it; a large, two by two, circular disk glowing bright blue. Approaching it, he saw the console beeping, indicating an incoming call. He set his helmet ontop of the railing, before hitting the console. He stood back, hands clasped behind his back as the pixels swarmed into the center to form the blue, holographic form of Admiral Hackett.

"Shepard," Hackett immediately greeted, hands also clasped behind his own back and standing, "Your VI pinged me to let me know you had arrived back from Mars. Did you get to the Archives?"

Marcus nodded, frowning, "We got there, but so was Cerberus. They were the ones behind the communication failure. They massacred half the facility by the time we got there, and Liara was the only one to have survived. Turns out a Doctor Eva Core was behind Cerberus' infiltration, but we managed to pursue her, take her down, and retrieve the data. Turns out she was an AI."

Hackett's eyes had already been widened by the first mention of the terrorist organization, "Cerberus was there? Did you find out what they wanted?"

He nodded, sighing heavily, "The same thing we did, sir. They wanted the data on that super weapon you mentioned; that's what Eva was trying to escape with before we chased her down. We had to leave quickly though; Reaper forces had already begun assaulting the planet, and we didn't have much time. Eva's body has been detained for experimentation, and we've got...one wounded. Major Alenko; Eva incapacitated him before I could do anything. He's currently in a stable condition, but we need to get him medical attention; and fast."

Hackett shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear that captain, but you and I both know this is just the beginning," he rubbed his chin, stroking his pale, white beard, "Our war just became twofold here. With Cerberus now playing the game against us, we've got two enemies instead of one; and the Reapers are bad enough."

"The Reapers are the main threat. I'll deal with Cerberus," Marcus vowed.

"We'll both burden the load, or neither. Either way, we're all involved now. The entire galaxy, no matter how much they wish they could pretend otherwise," the admiral nodded slightly, "As for the weapon...this data must be as important as intel thought it is for the Illusive Man to try and get his hands on it."

"It is," Liara's voice spoke, and he turned to watch the asari enter, smiling at him as she did. She came to stop beside him, "The Protheans tried to build it, but they were unable to finish it. If they had finished it, it would have been their key to destroying the Reapers. From what's described, it would have had the ability to wipe them all out with a push of a button; instant death for every single one of them."

The admiral seemed to contemplate these words, as if trying to understand, "Sounds a bit overly optimistic. A weapon that can destroy them all? A big deus ex machina if there ever was one. But its all we got, so I guess we have to play the cards we're dealt."

"Indeed," Marcus acknowledged, patting Liara on the shoulder, "Liara will send over the data to what's left of our engineers in the fleet; see if they can decypher it. With luck, construction for this weapon could begin soon; but first, we need to know exactly what we're dealing with here. We're a child playing with a loaded gun, and we need to know just what this weapon does and how it ticks before we go pulling any triggers."

Hackett nodded, "You're absolutely correct on that, Shepard. Send the data over and our engineers will try and crack it; considering this is a galactic fight now, maybe the salarian STG and asari can help us. And if we're the luckiest bastards on the block, we can hire some quarian expertise as well."

_You'll get all three if I have my way. I won't stand for games anymore. They either unite with the rest of us or face the Reapers alone. We fight or we die. _

"We'll regroup with you soon Hackett. Then we'll head to the Citadel, and see what the Council has to say for themselves. They've got alot to answer for. Hell, I'll have Liara shove this weapon in their faces. They can't ignore it; giving them the cold hard truth will get us the support we need."

Hackett gave a curt nod and seemed about to respond when a voice shouted from behind him, and he turned to the source, nodding. Turning back, he exhaled through his nose, "We're about to enter the Andura sector. We should have word from the Eighth Fleet soon, so hopefully you'll be here when they turn up. See you then, Shepard. Hackett out," with a crisp salute, the admiral turned and left, the pixels projecting his body combusting into nothing, and causing the room to darken with their absence.

He saw Liara turning to leave in his peripheral vision, but he barely moved an inch from the railing, still leaning against it, deep in thought. _What do I have to give up to make sure we win this? We can't fight this like I used to. I can't kill a few geth heretics and then piss off back to the ship like everything's fine. I can't just pick up a few squad members, piss off back to the ship, and pretend everything is just a joy ride. This is a war for survival. Sacrifices have to be made to ensure our victory._

_We will not vanish into the night like the protheans did. I will not allow my people to become the next Collectors. Quarians, salarians, turians, asari, humans, krogan...every single one of us will cease to exist; just another fable for the next cycle to hypothesize about, just like this cycle did with the protheans. Not this cycle. No, this time, we __**prevail.**_

_No matter the cost._

"Shepard?" Liara spoke up, breaking him from his thoughts, and reminding him that the asari hadn't left, and still stood in the doorway, waiting for him, "Is everything alright?"

_I am. But not all of us are. _Without turning to her, he exhaled, speaking in a soft tone, "How's Major Alenko? Will he survive?"

"Of course he will," she replied, hands on her hips, "He's suffered some bad wounds to the face, but if we can get him to a hospital, he'll be fine. You need to stop worrying about _him _and starting worrying about _you. _You've been moving about non-stop ever since the Reapers hit Earth. Not only have you watched your homeworld fall around you, but you've watched thousands of innocents be butchered, had to leave a father figure behind, gone straight to Mars only to learn that Cerberus is now an enemy as well, and now have almost watched a good friend die before you. If anyone's mental state is currently vulnerable, its yours."

He turned to her, annoyance in his voice and eyes, "Who are you? My fucking babysitter? I can look after myself perfectly bloody fine, thank you very much. I'm a damn soldier; I've handled Elysium, I've handled Torfan, I've handled Akuze. I can handle this. So get off my damn back." He immediately stopped, realizing just what he had said, he rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"No, its okay," Liara reassured him, "We've all been under a bit of stress. I've been pursued by Cerberus, you've been locked up for six months, and Kaidan's been forced to leave his homeworld to a relentless enemy. Goddess help us all if we got out of that perfectly sane."

He smiled, nodding as he picked up his helmet and moved past her and into the War Room, "I'm not sure my insanity is even questionable anymore. The shit we've seen? We knew the Reapers were coming; this should be no surprise."

He moved down the steps and became to stand before the war room table, bracing against it, helmet placed ontop of its surface. Liara was at his side in an instant, a sigh in her voice, "Talking about it and seeing it are two different things, Shepard. Yes, we knew they were coming and we knew what destruction they could unleash, but seeing it first hand...especially while watching your world burn...it puts things into perspective."

He nodded, rubbing his temple with an armoured glove. Just wearing this damn suit was beginning to annoy the hell out of him, and he needed out of it, "I just wish we had something we could call concrete. Something to call our salvation."

She frowned at him, he could sense it, and when he turned his head to look at her, he confirmed it. She spoke, hesitation in her voice, followed by understanding, mixed with confusion, "But...wait, you...you don't believe it'll work, do you? You don't think this super weapon is...legitimate."

"Hardly," he replied morbidly, twisting his neck until it gave a satisfying crack, "How am I supposed to put all my faith behind something when we don't even know what it does yet? For all we know, it could be a galaxy-bomb, and instead of saving us, it destroys us and the Reapers. Hell, for all we know, it could be a Reaper trap. How do we know? We don't. And I can't put my faith behind something like that. Not yet. Its just too good to be true."

She nodded in agreement, wringing her hands in the an endearing way; almost like how Tali did it. _Damn it..._"Isn't it worth a try...at least? Can't we at least...believe?"

He sighed, and he met her eyes in an instant, not knowing what to say. In all honesty, he couldn't. Believe, that is. To believe, you needed something to found it on, and what was he going to found it on? A bunch of data that may or may not be an elaborate trap to trick us into a false sense of security? No, he couldn't believe. He couldn't have faith. The only person he could possibly put all his faith, trust and belief into was likely on the other side of the galaxy, far away from him, and most likely just as lonely as he was. _I've got friends to back me...but is that enough? The short answer..._

_...is no. It never has been._

Without so much as a response to her question, he turned to leave, his voice showing no emotion, "I'm going to my cabin to clean up; get out of this armor. We'll be in the Andura sector soon, so I won't be long. Just got...a few things to tie up," _a wife to contact. A brother to search up. Friends to look over, _"Tell me when we're there. Then we'll take our fight to the Council."

As heard neared the top of the stairs, he heard Liara's words behind him, and it stopped him in his tracks, "I'm sure the Council will be more than willing to help us."

He shook his head, his voice acidic as he moved through the door and left.

"It'll be one hell of a short war if they don't."

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1129 hours._

_Docking Bay D24, Shalta Docks, Shalta Wards, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Madness is how he could best describe it. Chaos. People running back and forth, frightened and scared, but most of all curious and anxious. A new era for the galaxy had begun, and the civilian populace didn't know whether it was good, or the beginning of the end. Had they witnessed the Reaper invasion of Earth, maybe they'd think differently, but that wasn't the case; these people had known nothing but peace time; they had not experienced the horrors of war, and definitely not on this scale.

But it wasn't a war. Not really. Not for the Reapers.

More like a campaign of extermination.

Vidscreens displayed news reports from all the different news stations; worlds falling to an unknown, but powerful and vast enemy, and two whole governments wiped out in the space of six hours; and humanity, who had barely spent thirty years in the galactic community, had already lost their homeworld, their Parliament, and a large amount of their military.

People crowded around the vidscreens; humans, asari, turians, salarians, hanar, elcor, even a few batarians. He heard batarians growl when they saw the images of a burning Khar'Shan, and humans gasp and cry and shudder when the images of entire Earth cities being cleansened of all life; their inhabitants transformed into fresh hordes of husks. And the screaming...he could still imagine it all in his head. He could still hear them.

That was the scene observed by Marcus Shepard as he emerged from the dock's doors, with James and Liara at his back. That was what all three of them observed. _And soon their numbers will dwindle...some will leave to protect their loved ones, others will stay to do the same. Some will join the military to help fight, others will leave to protect their respective homeworlds. Some will die, others will live. Some will be indoctrinated, others transformed into husks. Every single one of these people have a purpose to serve...and soon enough, all of them will die if the Reapers aren't stopped. Every. Single. One._

_We fight or we die._

"Move!" one doctor shouted from behind him, voice ever growing closer, "Get out of the way! Coming through!"

On instinct, Marcus was moving, strafing to the right along with James and Liara on the left. The space they had occupied a minute before was quickly filled as four alliance nurses rushed past with a portable bed in their arms and rolling across the ground, Kaidan ontop of its surface, half-naked body covered by the sheets, his bruised and battered face evident for all to see as he rushed towards the elevator at the end of the hall. The three of them merely watched as he disappeared, his fate now in the hands of Huerta Memorial Hospital.

_They looked after Jack. They'll look after Kaidan._

The door closed behind Kaidan, shutting off his view of the unconcious marine. With a heavy weighed sigh, he moved through the hall, bumping into the occassional civilian on his way to the observation balcony that lay a few meters ahead, James and Liara at his sides.

Once he had reached the railing, he found himself leaning into it, arms gripping it tightly as he braced against it, eyes looking out into the purple haze of Widow. The Citadel's long wards stretched out like long arms, reaching out into space with the lights of many city blocks lighting up the station, giving it a ethereal glow. The Citadel was not only the capital of galactic governance, but it was a 'safe haven' for many and all. Looking up, his eyes landed on the Citadel Tower, and remembered that only three years ago Sovereign had been wrapped around it, tearing into the Citadel fleet and Alliance Fifth fleet alike. And now, with the relevation that the Citadel was a Reaper creation, as were the mass relays and the looming Reaper attack, the Citadel wasn't all it was advertised to be.

_Its about as safe as building a fortress inside a Thresher Maw's nest. _If there was ever a place that had underserved splendor, it was t he Citadel. _If only people could realize that. You'd think after the Battle of the Citadel that they'd be thinking differently, but apparently not even the decimation of the entire Citadel fleet could persuade them of the dangers._

"Aren't we going with them?" James asked, arriving at Marcus' side as he too leaned against the railing, gazing out into space, some of his animosity towards his captain now gone from his features. Marcus turned to face him, thankful that the marine's attitude had changed, "I mean, he's one of us, isn't he? Bro code and everything?"

Marcus chuckled, facing him as he turned around, leaning his back against the railing, "Afraid not, Vega. Kaidan will be just fine; but right now, I need to concentrate on what's seriously important and right now; that's talking to the Council. They should be in session in a few minutes; apparently Hackett contacted Udina and informed him of the situation, so he arranged the meeting." Marcus wasn't wearing his armor; he wore a standard alliance shirt and jeans, deciding to ditch the senior uniform. Not that he missed wearing the damn thing anyway.

James snorted, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his broad chest; the marine having also changed into his usual attire, "Bloody Council are a bunch of thick-headed _putas. _Getting through to them will be one hell of a huge battle."

_You're telling me. You should have seen them during the Eden Prime War. Sons of bitches were as thick as bricks back then, and I doubt the test of time has made them any thinner or more complacent. But maybe a Reaper invasion has left them just a tad uncertain. And that's all I need._

"Loco," James suddenly stated behind his voice curious as he seemed to be looking at something behind Marcus, "Looks like we've got company."

Frowning, he turned to face what James was looking at, and found himself smiling as said man emerged from the crowd and headed towards them, purpose in his every step. His face seemed to be just as firm as it had been a year ago when he met the officer, wearing the standard C-Sec uniform, badge on the front of his breast to let people know he was a member of the Citadel's police force. He had a long jaw ending in a deep chin, and his eyes were hardened. Even then, there was a slight smile as he approached.

A smile Marcus returned as he held out his hand for the man to take as he came to stand before him, "Captain Bailey," he greeted as he shook the man's hand, "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were in command of Zakera Ward?"

"Was. A recent development, courtesy of Councilor Udina," he chuckled for a moment, before scratching his chin, where light stubble had begun to grow as he exhaled, "I've been promoted. Its _Commander _Armando Owen Bailey now."

_Promoted by Udina? Ouch. Being promoted by that asshole can't have been a nice trip. _He reached up a hand, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he awkwardly kept eye contact with Bailey, "Ah...congratulations?"

The commander rolled his eyes, letting Marcus know he agreed with the sentiment, however veiled, "Thanks. Not exactly one of my finest moments, but I have to make do with what I have. I can't say I miss Zakera Ward, but it was definitely alot quieter down there. Even before this commotion, Shalta Ward is a noisy hole."

"With this war its only going to get louder," Marcus replied, "How's the situation here?"

"Getting worse and worse," Bailey sighed, jabbing a finger at the throngs of crowds behind them, "These crowds aren't growing any smaller, and my force isn't growing any bigger. Crime is going through the roof while we're dealing with this, and coupled with that, we received almost every single batarian in existence all at once, and they seem to be completely overwhelming us. The Council's ordered us to set up a refugee camp, but we're fast running out of supplies, and the ships just keep comin. And now we've got the entire Alliance Navy on our doorstep," concern entered his eyes, along with fear as he spoke, gulping, "Its killing me not knowing what's going on Earth. You were there. How was the situation?"

"The Alliance got its ass kicked, Bailey," he lamented, remembering the man had a son on Earth, "Reapers obliterated Arcturus and were on Earth before we knew what happened. They blew through Hackett's ships, and were on Earth in seconds. Last I saw Vancouver, it was in flames, as was the rest of the planet. People slaughtered ...it didn't look good, Bailey. I can only imagine its going to get worse."

"I haven't been much of a godly man, but I guess all we've got now is our religion to provide us hope," Bailey said with sorrow, looking at the ground with a mix of fear and determination. When he looked back up, his eyes only showed determination, and Marcus respected his attitude, "I just hope my son got out in time. And...and my ex-wife. I hope they're all safe; but right now, I've got to worry about these people. And escorting you to the Council Chambers. Council assigned me as your personal tour guide, unfortunately," he held his hands up in defense of himself, "No offense."

"None taken. Trust me, I know how you feel," he replied, motioning for Bailey to lead the way. The C-Sec officer did just that as he moved down towards a skycar bay at the end of the corridor, James and Liara struggling to keep up with them as they moved through the large crowd of people. Bailey spoke as he walked.

"The Council's likely already in session, so you'd best be quick," the man informed them, "I think they're currently talking with the batarian leader; Balak Uhtero. He's the leader of what's left of the Hegemony at the moment and considering what arrived at the Citadel not too long ago, that's not all that much."

Marcus felt anger pool up inside him. _Balak. That scumbag. _He remembered Torfan, when the batarian mocked him. He remembered Asteroid X57, when the batarian tried to send it into Terra Nova but was stopped. When the man had been conveniently behind the abduction of Madi'Soi, and had been thwarted again. He had met the batarian everywhere, but he had always escaped, but maybe this time he would succeed.

_No. Now's not the time for grudges. Right now Balak is the leader of the Hegemony; and we need the batarians. __**I **__need the batarians. Which means I'm going to have to work with Balak...for now. I just need to gain his trust...gain his allegiance._

Before he knew it, the four of them had reached a C-Sec skycar on the left of the carport, and Bailey opened his omni-tool, opening the door to the driver's seat and watching it fly open. Just as he placed one foot into the car, he turned to them, eyes scanning all three of them, "All of you comin?"

James shook his head, "I'm just a tourist today."

Marcus grinned, turning to the marine's retreating form, "Try not to crash any more shuttles. Or skycars."

The marine gave no response as he left, and Marcus could only chuckle. He turned to Liara and let her enter the vehicle first, before following her, closing the door behind them. Bailey was quick to bring the skycar to life, and before they knew it, they had reversed out of the car port and shot out into the Citadel skyline, racing towards the Presidium.

The ride was quite short; shorter than Marcus had thought it would be. The traffic seemed to be the usual today, and not as chaotic as he believed it should be. _People don't think the war will reach them; they still want to believe the Citadel is safe. Inpenetrable. They're all still living in a fantasy._

The Presidium hadn't changed much either; and it looked like most of the Citadel had finally recovered fully from the battle three years ago, with most wreckage now absent and many areas fully functional once more. The Presidium itself was still the shining epitome of the Citadel's splendor and beauty, and also painted a very celestial and heavenly picture. It was a picture that the monolithic space station, given its history, didn't quite deserve.

The Citadel Tower loomed over them as Bailey brought the skycar to land, the officer cutting the engines as it tapped the ground. Seeing that they had arrived, Marcus hit the door's release, and it shot open, allowing him to step out onto the prestine white tiles of the Presidium's floor. Liara wasn't far behind him, and Bailey had just opened the door to follow them when his omni-tool began beeping, and he was forced to acknowledge it.

As it opened, a familiar face appeared, and Marcus groaned, "Sir, we've got a situation around Flux. Multiple armed hostiles have engaged one of our fireteams on site. They're Blue Suns, sir."

Bailey sighed, wiping a hand across his temple as he replied, "Solid copy, reporting to section 8. Contact Falpat and his men and have them report to Flux immediately. Bailey out," his comms cut out, and Samuel Ghost's face cut out, allowing the officer to turn and face Marcus with a weary look in his eyes, "Duty calls, apparently. Damn Blue Suns can't keep quiet for ten minutes without causing trouble. Nothing we can't handle of course; they seem to have lost cohesion and just attack randomly without any semblance of organization. Probably because they don't like their new leader, or so I've heard."

Marcus supressed a grin at that. _Its hard to like Zaeed and his methods, but at least he's getting results. But why hasn't he been able to control the Blue Suns? Another person to contact, I guess. My list seems to grow with every passing hour. _He needed to warn Garrus that a Reaper attack was imminent, he needed to see if Tali was okay, and he wanted to know if Jack and Miranda had recovered sufficiently. Now Zaeed seemed to have problems controlling his mercenaries.

_Just another problem to fix._

"That's okay, Bailey. I know my way around. Six months stuck in a cell hasn't killed my memory," Marcus replied, nodding with understanding.

The man pushed his lower lip out in agreement, "Fair enough. I'd better get going then; before the executor decides to pull my tail again. Grouchy bastard, that bastard. And he's a turian; just like Palin." With that, the man retreated inside his skycar, brought the engines back to life, and both of them watched as it shot back into the sky, disappearing into the traffic, illuminated by the big, bright artificial sun.

He turned to his asari companion, a smile on his face, "Well, best not keep the Council waiting. I'm sure Balak must be wearing them down, with all his demands and such."

The two of them preceeded into the nearest elevator and it ascended along the spine of the tower to the top. Luckily, unlike the elevator on the Normandy, it wasn't slow, so they got there relatively quickly, and they stepped out into the Council Chambers; a place he hadn't been in since his final battle with Saren three years ago. And back then, it had been in ruins and covered with Sovereign's remains, flames licking at every surface and sirens blaring through the walls.

Now the only sound was that of people talking, although the amount of people had definitely increased since last time; it wasn't as quite and peaceful as it was before, and was now filled to the brim with the sounds of delegates and diplomats waiting to speak with the Council. Military officers and representatives and the like. Flames no longer licked at every surface, and the fountain at the top of the steps was once again spraying water into the pool surrounding it, lights dimmed.

They proceeded up the steps and through the atrium's garden, the tree's leaves no longer present, having been burnt off from the fires that had licked at it during the Battle of the Citadel. Now it was just a charred remain; dead and desolate; about as peaceful to look at as a battlefield was, and it showed that the Citadel was definitely not as safe as people believed it to be.

The sound of both the Council and Balak speaking could be heard from the bottom of the chamber. The massive observation window that stood vigil at the back was intact once more, and Sovereign's debris was nowhere to be seen. People milled about, listening and observing the meeting; both from below, and on the balconies above.

Marcus and Liara pushed past and through the crowd, many of them complaining while others began to whisper to each other at the commander's arrival, curious as to what it would entail. He noticed some batarians glaring at him, some looking purely murderous; batarians hardly forgave anyone, and they especially gave no forgiveness to the murderer of the Bahak System. _If I hadn't of killed them, the Reaper invasion would have happened six months ago, instead of now._

They arrived at the main platform, seeing four C-Sec officers arguing with what were obviously three of Balak's men. But all seven turned to them upon seeing them approach, and the lead turian officer spoke, three-fingered hand held up, "Stop right there. The Council is in session, and they will not be interrupted."

"Not even for Captain Shepard?" Marcus asked sarcastically, "What a shame. I just happen to have a solution to their apocalyptic problem."

The officer froze for a second, eyes still on Marcus', but his hand refused to drop, and he didn't move aside, "How do you know about that?"

He would have yelled at the man for sheer denseness if he could. _Is he __**that**__ oblivious? That's bordering on mental retardation. How the fuck could you not know about the giant synthetic starships from outside the galaxy spreading through Council territory? How could you not know?_

"Not only is it _all over _the news," he stated, "But I also just happen to have been the one who _warned them about the Reapers in the first place. _So if I could please get through and say 'I told you so,' then we can get to saving the galaxy from extinction. May I?"

The batarian quickly stepped in, his throaty voice and putrid breath cascading onto his face as he stepped in alittle too close, "Our leader is in talks, human, so you'll wait your turn. Stay where you are; or do you have no patience?"

His eyes met the guard's pretty fast, "While you've been hiding under a rock, _batarian _or trying to blow up human colonies, you ignorant scumbag, I've been out there saving your worthless ass for three straight years. And I might just have a solution that could save you for a third time. So if you stop running your mouth for a few seconds and let me through, I might do something about it."

The batarian's breath did not dissipate, and he made no move to leave. He spoke again, words laced with acid, "You? Save _us_? Have you forgotten about the three hundred thousand you sentenced to death on Aratoht so quickly, human? I don't expect a genocidal murderer to save my race; the Council will do that. We should hope."

He had enough of this asshole's attitude, and his hand shot up, wrapping tightly around the batarian's throat, the batarian's four eyes widening in shock. The men around him moved to unholster their weapons, but quickly found themselves facing an intolerable looking Liara, biotics wrapping her form and shaking her head. His comrades backed off, hands leaving their guns.

Marcus' words were far more acidic, and his eyes narrowed, "If you don't get out of my way, I might just let the Reapers do the same to Khar'Shan. Is that what you want? Cause I'm this close to turning and leaving, and giving this super weapon to someone more appreciative. Right now, I'd love nothing more than to just let you scum _burn,_" his voice hissed, "I've faced your horrors on Elysium and Torfan. Do not think I won't hesitate to let you and your species be wiped from the history books, because I will if I find it cost productive. Have I made myself clear?"

The batarian nodded erratically, desperate to get out of the man's choking grip. Marcus nodded and let go, the batarian falling to his knees, clutching his throat as he made heaving sounds with his lung; drawing in as much air as possible. He turned to the other batarians, who looked at him with shocked expressions, some with anger, and the C-Sec officers seemed to be just a bit scared of him, both having moved out of the way, Liara waiting at the top, her biotics evaporated.

He nodded, moving to follow her up the steps, where the Council...and Balak, were waiting. _What happened there...that wasn't Marcus Shepard. But the galaxy doesn't need Marcus Shepard...they need Commander Shepard. _

_But I wasn't Commander Shepard either._

The two of them continued to march forward, a familiar sight standing across from them on their seats of power; the Citadel Council itself. Councilor Valern, the salarian councilor, stood in his usual spot on the far left. On his right stood Councilor Tevos, of the asari. On her right was Sparatus of Palaven, and then Councilor Donnel Udina, of humanity. Marcus couldn't say that he had a loving friendship between him and the Council; Tevos had been the most supporting of all of them, and even she had been reluctant to help him at times, and Sparatus had definitely been his biggest criticizer. Udina was just an asshole, and Valern just seemed to be a more subtle version of Sparatus.

At the end of the bridge was another familiar sight; but more hated. Balak stood in full combat armor, hands at his sides as he spoke to the Council, all four of them focused on him with worried eyes. Marcus could see the hidden fear in Tevos' eyes, and Valern seemed to look defeated. Udina looked exhausted, and even Sparatus seemed to look contrite. _They're finally coming to realize I was right all along. And they've never been more scared. _

Marcus and Liara came into full hearing range of Balak in a few steps, and listened to what he said, "...our ships are battered and our morale broken! My people demand refuge! We need provisions! We demand food and supplies! I have soldiers who need rearming. My fleet needs to be ready soon so we can surprise these scum and reclaim our homeland!"

Marcus snorted loud enough for the entire room to hear as he came to a stop just next to Balak, on the batarian's right. He eyed the slaver, who turned to him with gritted teeth and a hostile expression, "You won't be reclaiming anything at half strength. Especially not against a Reaper fleet."

"Shepard," Balak hissed, jabbing a finger at him while eying Udina, "Your people informed our good regent that he was locked up on Earth, rotting in a brig!"

"He was," Udina replied, rubbing his eyes as he met Balak's eyes, "But considering all hell was descending upon our homeworld was well, he most likely broke out or was broken out; likely by Anderson. But what does it matter now, anyway?"

"He murdered-" Balak began.

"Wake up!" Marcus growled over his words, regaining the batarian's attention, "Look to your homeworld and see the enemy before you. If you want to continue getting pissy over something that happened six months ago, go right ahead, but right now, we've got more important matters. Like a Reaper invasion..." he turned to the Council with an accusing glare, eying each of them, "...one we _should _have seen coming three years ago, but this Council so graciously ignored."

To their credit, the Council did not respond, merely remaining silent. After a moment, he shook his head and scoffed, turning to Balak as the batarian cleared his throat.

"So I'm just supposed to forget that you blew up an entire system full of my people in it?" Balak asked, vehemence in his gaze, "Is this Council so blinded by their moral hypocrisy, that they'll forget what this mass-murderer did in your name? Do not pretend you had nothing to do with it! He was your spectre!"

"They had nothing to do with it. What I did was of my own accord," Marcus declared, jabbing his own finger in Balak's chest, "But of course, noone asks _why _I did it. I did it to stop a Reaper invasion six months ago; one that would have used the Alpha Relay to enter this galaxy early and invade. Those people would have died _anyway..._at least this way, they won't serve the Reapers in death as their mechanical servants. At least this way, they won't be harvested. I did what had to be done. In my place, you'd have done the same. Any of you would have. But of course, my efforts and all their lives were wasted, weren't they? I gave you six months to prepare and be ready," he glared at the Council once more, fury in his eyes, "And you did..._nothing. _As per usual. And just like it always does, its come to bite you in the ass," he turned back to the batarian, "Now, the Council and myself have important business to discuss."

"What?" Balak roared, turning to the Council once more, "What about my people? Refuge? Supplies? Rearmament? What about the agreed provisions!?"

"They will be provided by Citadel Security and our Emergency Management Agency. Your people will be provided for, do not worry," Valern assured him, "But now you must take your leave. War is a nasty thing, and it must be discussed in finite detail."

Balak merely scoffed, pushing past Marcus as he stormed off down the bridge like a impudent child. Watching him go, Marcus turned back as Liara took Balak's place on the bridge, the Council turning to address him.

"We might again Councilors," he sarcastically greeted, "Hate to get straight to business, but I'd just like to state how much I hope the repercussions of this fuck-up of yours is really driving home at the moment."

"What we did was for-" Tevos began, but he was having none of it.

"Cut the bullshit, and save it for someone who cares. At the moment, I don't. What I do care about is the lack of preparation that has left wide open and falling like dominos," he stepped forward, "What was done? Nothing. As usual. But now I'm going to rectify that."

"Earth needs help, for starters," Udina coined in, apparently on Marcus' side, but with his own agenda, "Earth is currently under siege, and the Reapers are winning easy territory. What military intervention is being committed to stopping this?"

Marcus sighed, shaking his head in annoyance. _Even when he is siding with me, he still maintains a human centralist agenda. He's going to have to drop that bullshit if we want to win this war. He either accepts that everyone is in this together and all worlds matter equally, or I'll have the Council remove him and replace him with someone who will do what's necessary. _He sighed again, this time mentally. _Anderson should have stayed as councilor. He at least knows what's at stake._

Sparatus was quick to speak, turning to face Udina with a hesitant, but determined look, on his features, "We've got our own problems, Councilor. Earth is not in this alone. You heard what Regent Balak said," he pointed at the space that Balak had once occupied, "Khar'Shan is under siege as well. And considering their proximity to those clusters, Palaven and Sur'Kesh will soon follow."

"And Tuchanka," Liara pointed out, "The Krogan DMZ is this cluster's neighbour, and the Apien Crest isn't that far from here; neither is the Annos Basin. The krogan do count."

Sparatus nodded, motioning to the asari, "You see? Earth cannot be the focus of this situation; we have our own peoples to worry about as well, Councilor."

Udina exasperated, leaning against the railing, letting the other two get a full view of him and his fatigued expression, "But Earth was the first _Council _world hit. By our Admiralty Board's reports, it faced the brunt of the attack. Not only that, but it suffered far worse than Khar'Shan. They literally rushed through the batarian systems to reach Earth first; even the Regent said so. He said that where the Reapers were fast and rapid with batarian territory, they were more slow and methodical with human territory."

"And if the batarian says so, its true," Valern quipped, shaking his head, "Only two species have been effected, and only one of them a Council species. The Reapers have yet to attack our homeworlds yet, so how can we jump to conclusions?"

Udina seemed unable to speak, but Marcus quickly jumped in, anger quickly boiled. _Self-centered as usual, _"The Reapers are invading, and you four are fighting over who got hit the worst and who's more important?" he laughed, but it was mirthless, and the Council could only look at him, "That's pathetic. This is more important than all of you individually. This is about the galaxy as _a whole. _I'll tell you what I told the Defense Committee; this isn't about strategy or tactics. Its about survival. We stand together against this threat, or we'll be swept aside, one by one, until there's nothing left. We cannot afford to play games here. Unification is the answer here. We must unify. And yes, I'm talking everyone, including the Terminus. They'll be wiped out just like us, whether they like it or not."

He moved until he stood an inch from the bridge; able to see the glass down below that hung over the concealed garden bed; the exact same place where Garrus, Tali and himself had faced Saren's huskified form in the final battle of the Eden Prime War three years ago. He fixed each of them with a determined gaze, honing in his point, "We need your help. The galaxy needs your help. The Turian Hierarchy, Human Alliance, Asari Republics and the Salarian Union must all band together to combat this threat. You must give this alliance everything you have. Every soldier, every ship, every gun with a round in it. I don't care if we're talking peashooters; _everything._"

Seeing that he was finished, Tevos replied, her voice calm as ever, "Each of us faces a similiar situation. We don't know who will be hit next, but we've narrowed it down to Sur'Kesh and Palaven, and understandably, the Hierarchy and Union are nervous. The Reapers press down on their borders, and even the Republics is worried that Thessia won't be safe forever," she licked her lips, meeting his eyes with a sympathetic gaze, "If we give you all our strength on a impossible quest, our own worlds will fall. We cannot take that risk. Nor would you, if you were in our position."

"We must fight this enemy together!" Liara yelled, coming to Marcus' side.

Valern turned to her angrily, waving a dismissive hand, "So we should just follow the Alliance to Earth? Unless the Commander has greatly overexaggerated the Reapers' abilities, we risk the chance of losing our entire military in a unilateral strike like that. Who would be left to defend our own citizens? An alliance like you're proposing is impossible anyway! Who would join us? The disorganized bands of the Terminus? The ramshackle fleet of the quarians? The murderous geth? The batarians, who can barely hold themselves together? The krogan, who can barely reproduce? Or perhaps the vorcha? Would you like us to gather hordes of them, put them on a leash, and then unleash them on the Reapers? Such an alliance is doomed to fail. It is impossible."

_I found Ilos. I killed a Reaper. I came back from the dead. My crew went through the Omega 4 Relay. We found and defeated the Shadow Broker. I destroyed a Mass Relay. I got a quarian and geth to not only work together, but to work as friends. They say such things are impossible, yet I did it. My crew did it. I wouldn't put such an alliance past me._

_Not only that, but such an alliance would not only be gargantuan in scale, but it would be the largest unification of species in galactic history. The first of its kind. The largest combined military armada in living memory._

Sparatus stepped in, not letting anyone respond to Valern's comment, "Even if we did somehow manage to unite our fleets, make such an alliance, and headed for Earth. Do you really believe we could defeat the Reapers?"

Marcus nodded, knowing what was to come next. The prothean super weapon, "I don't expect you to follow me without a plan," with that, he turned to Liara, the asari practically already whipping out her omni-tool with the utterance of his last word, the asari's hands dancing over the holographic interface framed on her wrist.

Soon, the holographic form of a mega structure, which looked alot like a quarian liveship in design, appeared above it, and she faced the Council, a smile on her lips, "Councilors, we have that plan. A blueprint, created by the protheans during their war with the Reapers."

Sparatus stroked one of his mandibles, Marcus watching it twitch as he regarded the hologram with a curious gaze, "Just what kind of blueprint is it? It looks like a space station."

"As much as it looks just like that, it is actually a super weapon of some sort," Liara explained, nodding to Sparatus, "One of vast, uncalculatable power and scope."

Valern pitched in, leaning against the railing of his podium, "Capable of destroying the Reapers?"

Liara and Marcus shared a momentary glance before Marcus nodded, knowing the asari's conflicting feelings. _I may not have faith in it, but that doesn't mean others can't. _Seeing his agreement, Liara turned back, nodding estatically, "Yes."

Valern and Sparatus shared a moment's glance before the salarian turned back to her, the salarian, for once, being out of words, "The scale is...it would be a colossal undertaking! Think of the resources needed to build such a device! Tremendous."

"And we've already got a head start," Marcus informed him, "Hackett's already dispatched the Sixth and Seventh Fleet to begin gathering resources to begin construction. The Alliance can start this, but we won't be able to finish it without help. We don't just need builders; we need scientists and techs to determine just what it does, and engineers to also help building it. We need every scientific mind in the galaxy if this is going to even have a chance at working. We need the salarians, we need the asari, we need the turians, we need _everyone_."

Valern seemed unconvinced, needing evidence as every salarian did, "So you need our scientists just to figure out what it _does? _Seems to me you know its purpose and that it destroys Reapers, but you don't know how it achieves this. For all we know, this weapon could indeed destroy the Reapers, but destroy us as well."

Tevos, ever the main speaker of the group, spoke again, her voice laced with sorrow and regret, "Have you considered that the Reapers destroyed the protheans? What good did this weapon do them if they couldn't even save themselves from extinction? What help is it to us?"

"Both questions can be answered," Liara replied, turning to Valern, "For one, we do indeed not know what the weapon does, but we know that it kills Reapers; that should be good enough a risk to take if we can obtain that ultimate goal," she turned to Tevos, "And the protheans were building the device, but they ran out of time and were destroyed before they could use it. They also discovered it too late; we haven't. This is only the beginning of the war, and we already have it. We just need to build it, and hope for victory."

"Thus the flaw in your plan reveals itself," Sparatus skeptically stated, "You want this Council to put its full faith in an unknown weapon; all our resources and manpower behind a weapon who's destructive capabilities are an enigma. We cannot just blindly follow this. It requires risk that this Council is unwilling to take."

"Fact of the matter is that we cannot follow you to Earth. Or give you the manpower to build your weapon," Tevos declared, sighing, "As sad as it is to attempt, and cruel to dictate, but while the Reapers are focused on Earth and Khar'Shan, we can prepare and assemble our ships to protect our own systems. I'm sorry Commander, but you will not be getting support from us."

Marcus didn't answer for many seconds. He just stood there, gazing at them accusingly. His eyes glazed over them, ignoring Udina, who looked so exhausted he could barely move, and he couldn't blame the man. Tevos, Valern and Sparatus fell under his glare, and as he opened his mouth, he didn't hesitate to let them know how angry he was.

"Actually, its _Captain _Shepard now," he hissed, slamming a fist into the railing infront of you, "And you are a bunch of fucking idiots; I should have known you'd be a waste of time. Always looking after your own interests!"

"We do this for the-" Tevos began, but was once again cut off, harshly.

"I've heard it all before! But no more! No fucking more!" he growled, pacing back and forth as Liara deactivated her omni-tool, looking at them helplessly, "The asari think themselves so fucking superior to everyone else, the turians believe themselves unbeatable in military might, and the salarians think yourselves so subtle that nothing can find you. All three of you will soon find that proven wrong. The Reapers will find you, they will beat you, and they will show you _true _superiority. So remember this clearly, for I won't repeat myself," he leaned further in, pure anger in his eyes, along with a hidden malice he never thought himself capable of, "When Palaven, or Sur'Kesh, or Thessia are burning, don't come crying to me for help. Because remember what you said? If Earth isn't worth the risk, then you aren't _either._ I will not help you, and neither will humanity. We will ignore you just like you ignored us. And only then will you realize that unity could have saved you, and you, the Council, chose to reject it. Believe me or don't," he turned to walk away, "I'm _done _with you morons."

The Council offered no response as he stormed off, Liara rushing to follow him. He tried to channel his anger as he pushed past the C-Sec officers at the bridge, and he managed to do so well until he reached the elevator, slamming his fist into the icon to begin his descent just as Liara leapt inside.

"Please," she begged, "You didn't mean that! Please tell me you didn't-"

"I meant every fucking word of it," Marcus growled, turning to face her, "Those morons will be the end of us all; and I won't stand for it. I'm _done with the Council. _For three years they've ignored me, but no longer. I won't take it anymore. This is a war we all need to be fighting, but they'd rather cower behind their homeworlds and hope the threat goes away. They are fools."

"You're preaching to the choir, Shepard!" she replied, "But you can't have meant the rest. About Thessia! Thessia is my _home, _Shepard. I was born in Armali, its capital. Please, you can't-"

"You think I'd let the entire asari race suffer just because Tevos is a fucking bigot?" he turned to her, and seeing the fear in her eyes disappearing, he shook his head, turning to face the elevator doors, "Of course I won't let Thessia burn. Or Palaven. Or Sur'Kesh. None of them. I only said to make the Council wake up to itself. I won't let your home burn, Liara," he added the last bit in a soft tone, his voice losing some of the ice it had before.

Her eyes warmed and she slowly nodded, turning away from him. Silence filled the space as they descended, but after a few moments, she turned to him, clearing her throat, "So...what now?"

He shrugged, "Every alliance starts somewhere. Best to start with the race that's willing to listen. The ones who give a shit."

Liara nodded, realization in her features, "The quarians."

He nodded, "The Migrant Fleet will be a good start; continue with the peace talks where we started. If we can acquire the quarians and the geth, then we'll have the most powerful of the alliances formed. Plus, having geth and quarian engineers to help this super weapon will be invaluable; it'll significantly speed up the process."

She merely nodded, but before she could answer, Marcus' omni-tool beeped. And when he opened it, and read the message contained, Marcus smiled for the first time since he entered the Council Chambers.

Today just got better.

**"The Council was unwilling to help, so you had to go around them. Hit your intended targets individually; rally the galaxy under **_**your **_**flag, correct?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Correct. Although it was a long, audacious process, it worked. In the end."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"But just what you were you smiling about?"**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Oh...just part one in my plan. Here's a clue; it involved a little gang civil war of sorts."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Sorry if this seemed to take forever to come out guys, but I was seriously distracted by school and such. This chapter may have been a little dull, but I promise you that the next two chapters will be largely action-packed. The next chapter will not be focused on Shepard at all; it will show the Siege of Khar'Shan, the fighting on Earth, the invasion of Palaven, etc. The chapter after will be Shepard focused again, alongside a familiar face. Take a guess in the review section at who it is. The word 'mercenaries' should have made it obvious.**_

_**Keep your minds cleared, marines!**_

_**Keelah Se'lai!**_


	5. Chapter 4 Convergence

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

**CONVERGENCE**

_June 3, 2186_

_1006 hours._

_Military Checkpoint C9, Rekalhafg Gutter 5, Rekalhafg, Khar'Shan._

_The Reaper War, Fall of Khar'Shan._

_Gerek Maawt, Rmaz Qualr._

The heavens had fallen. The clouds had crumbled and burned. From them came the hordes of hell; monolithic demons that were kilometers in length, blowing through their fleet to descend upon them. Airhorns blasting through the area like a descending cloud of death. It was the closest definition of hell he could find, and it converged all around them, seemingly consuming the planet and all it was worth. His home was being invaded by an enemy more powerful than any could imagine.

Khar'Shan had fallen. His world burned. His people were gathered up and either murdered, and sent into concentration camps that the unknown enemy had set up on the planet; and they never came back out again; not even as bodies. No, the person they were was destroyed, and replaced with the cybernetic body of a mindless husk; a cannibal. That was the fate that awaited the batarian species if they all fell into this enemy's hands.

_I sure as hell won't get caught then. _

And as he looked down up at the child he currently ran with in his arms, he knew _damn well _he wasn't letting those bastards get his hands on her.

She wasn't even his child; she had been a little child he had found outside the school, all covered in dust and crying. He had picked her up, and quickly began running as he heard husks heading their way. Now he just kept running and running, all the while the child get crying for her mum and dad. _They're dead kid; either that, or being turned into one of their mechanical servants. You and I will be too if we don't find somewhere to hide._

The streets were empty, but the sound was never absent. As he ran down the empty road, child in his arms, he could hear gunfire in the distance; screams, which were in turn answered by the terrific airhorns of their enormous enemy. Flames licked at any building they could touch; a swath of destruction moving along their world and burning it to ashes. Rekalhafg wasn't Khar'Shan's capital city, but it was one of its major population centers.

Now it was just ashes and dust and death and wrath. The Pillars of Strength weren't enough to save them, and they all knew the batarian hegemony had all but fallen; their own government dead. _Not that any batarian would mourn our dead leaders. The fall of the Hegemony should be a celebration; but there is little time to celebrate when the people who fell upon your enemy are now trying to kill you._

And this enemy made the Hegemony look merciful.

Abandoned skycars littered the road, either covered in ash, or acting as tombs for the dead. Civilians and military alike covered the ground, covered in their own blood and occassionally accompanied by a dead husk; whether it be human or batarian in origin. Some of the cars burned and crackled, and some sections of the road looked like they had been blown apart. Row upon row of buildings aligned Gutter 5, but they looked no different then they had under Hegemonial rule; rundown and stagnant, with little to no maintenance or caring put into its construction. Now some had been blown wide open, their debris laying on the ground before it, their interior scorched and flaming. Some had been damaged and some significantly so, but others were left untouched, as if they had never witnessed an attack at all.

He was getting tired now; his lungs heaving with the effort to keep him supplied with oxygen. His four eyes continously closed and opened as he felt a huge stitch form in the pit of his abdomen, but he willed himself to continue, the weeping sounds of a child in his arms possessing him into action, so he kept running. The need to survive was strong.

He had been walking to work when the city saw the attack. The ground had shook, and everyone had rushed onto the street to see a piece of hull from a batarian warship, scorched and barely recognizable, wedged in the ground, and it was quickly followed by more from the sky, and they had looked up to see what seemed to be the _entire _batarian navy falling from the heavens to land on Khar'Shan...

...then they had come. Down they descended, blowing their airhorns and stretching their legs out wide as they fell towards them. Some were two kilometers in height, while others were 160 meters, but all of them were huge, and he had watched crowds of people vanish into nothing as they were impacted by high-velocity beams of accellerated tungsten hitting with the force of 40 megatons of TNT, either blowing them asunder, blasting them into ashes or simply vaporizing them into atoms; either way, he had watched a slaughter, and had run as fast as he could. The coward he was, he didn't even see if his wife or kids were okay. It was fight or flight; and he had run as fast as he could. Abandoned his wife and kids to die. And the more sickening thing about it, was that he didn't care. He had always been selfish, and this was the epitome of it.

He had kept on running, his family most likely captured or killed by the enemy, but he didn't care; just kept running. He had even hid as a tank, a captured Alliance Grizzly, had rolled past, followed by a convoy of old Hegemony Ravager-Class armoured support vehicles; a large, bulky vehicle with two, large 55mm cannons that had a firing rate that was pretty slow, but incredibly powerful. They had moved in a convoy, accompanied by two Hegemony Mantis gunships, and at least forty batarian soldiers. They had raced past to meet the enemy, and he had watched just one..._one..._of those damn things fire into them; a single beam practically annihilating the convoy with one swath, followed by the rest of the force with a second, and the enemy had continued on...and that had been one of the 160 meter tall ones.

Wasn't long before he ran into the child; still sitting outside of the school, balling his eyes out. He had picked up the child and moved to leave, but a batarian soldier had fast approached, barking at him to stay put, his rifle raised. He continued to yell, and Gerek thought he would die, but just as quickly as the soldier appeared, he disappeared as a husk tackled him onto the ground, tearing his throat out with his teeth. Gerek had run away to the sound of the soldier's choked screaming, which seemed to intensify the child's crying.

And now here they were; running. Just running, as fast as they can, hoping to outrun them. But what was the point? They were everywhere. Their armies dropped from the skies and landed in the mountains, and these gargantuan vessels seemed to land in every major city; he doubted even the capital was safe. Where could they hide, that this enemy was not already at? Was this the beginning of the end for the batarian race?

What if this was the enemy that Commander Shepard had been talking about?

Any thought of the human or his species was dragged away as he reached a military checkpoint on the road, causing him to stop.

It was abandoned, that much was obvious. A large wall had been set up, obviously makeshift, with two towers watching over it and a large, steel gate that was open. One of the ladders leading up to one tower was dripping blood, and below was the mutilated corpse of a hegemony soldier, along with numerous other dead soldiers and civilians around it; the stench of gore reaching his nose and almost making him retch. A grizzly was left abandoned behind it, its hatch open. Slowly, and respectfully, he edged his way through the overrun checkpoint, trying to keep his eyes off the dead bodies and his mind off the wretched smell of the rotting cadavers around him.

The area beyond the checkpoint was all the same; more death, more abandonment. It was always the same.

What wasn't the same was one thing. The kid wasn't crying anymore, and he heard a tiny voice speak, words muffled by his shoulder, but still hearable.

"How much furthur?"

He gulped, swallowing as he tried to relieve his dry throat, "Not far. Just this last street."

"I want my mummy. I want my daddy."

He sighed, shaking his head as he began moving forward again, shaken into action by another, distant airhorn blast, the sound shaking him to the core. He hated it, "Well you can't see them. They're dead; they took them. The enemy took them."

He heard a sniffle, followed by the kid talking, "Who are the eneeme? I don't no the enemee. Are they bad peepel?

"Yes," he turned, watching the destruction in the distance, and the distant screaming as people were dragged into the camps. He just as quickly ripped his gaze away, unable to watch the horrors taking place, "They're very bad people. Evil." _And evil doesn't even begin to describe them. Unfathomable? Malevolent? Sick? Horrific? _

"I'm not scared," the kid stated, seemingly proudly, as Gerek began to break into another run, "My daddy taught me to never be scared, in case the hege..hege..._hagam-_"

"Hegemony," Gerek corrected.

"Yeh. Them," she stated, "He told me to _never _be scared. Are you scared?"

_More than you know. I think I pissed myself, _"Yes."

"I'm not," the kid repeated, "I won't be. I cant be. Im better than that, my daddy said."

_You're braver than me. I'm just a bloody coward; the coward who fled and left his wife and kids to a unimaginable death, only to save a kid I don't even know. _

He could only mutter a single response, "At least one of us is brave. At least one of us isn't scared." _But she is scared. Just like me. I saw it in her eyes. She's terrified, and she has every right to be. Pillars of Strength, grant me at least enough courage to save us from this predicament. Can't be much further._

He wasn't wrong. Not technically. The end of the street had only been a kilometer up, and they had reached an intersection; one took them out towards the city walls, while the other moved further into the city's shopping district; if you could even call it that. The place looked just as deserted as the rest had, but it was clear this part of the city had not been touched yet.

He sighed, looking up into the sky, and drinking in its contents; but the taste was bitter, and bloody. The sky was the same vibrant orange as it had always been, glowing like a great fire, but now it was even brighter; brighter with the colors of the enem-The Reapers, dropping from the sky.

_We all know what they are. Shepard warned us they were coming, and the idiocy of our government will cost us our existence._

The kid spoke again, "I wanna go home. I dont wanna stay hear."

He smiled, but it was grim, "We're leaving now. We'll go somewhere safe. Far away." _A hole in the ground, maybe. Those bastards won't think of looking there for us._

He took a step forward, but as soon as he did, it was like a trigger for damnation. For destruction. But it wasn't of the kind you'd expect. It was of a different origin. Of _batarian _origin.

Sirens. They built in crescendo, like a wailing animal, rearing in alarm. His head shot up and the child started to cry again at the sound, and he began patting his back to calm her down, but it did nothing, and he just kept wailing. The sirens continued, and he didn't seem to recognize them, unable to understand what was going on. _Why are they-_

Then he saw it. Rising into the sky; missiles, five of them, rising from the ground and shooting up, but all spreading in different directions, and only one headed for them. He watched it with a frown as the lone rocket moved towards the city center. He saw three missiles in the distance get shot down, as if the Reapers were desperate to destroy them. _Why? They're just...just..._his eyes widened in horror and he cried out, his own eyes brimming with tears as he ran like a coward, heading for the exit, child in hand. He knew what came next. He wanted out.

And he remembered that the kid was still turned around.

A brilliant flash sounded behind him, and the child roared in agony. He turned the child back around, who's tears had started flowing like a well as she closed her eyes, a sizzle coming from them. And then, like a fool, he turned around, and froze.

The middle of the city was gone; a great mushroom cloud in its place, rising up into the sky. Its many rings surrounded it, and he could only watch as buildings began to combust into flames, and others simply blew apart, skycars and the like being thrown up into the sky like leaves on the wind. He growled as he felt his skin begin to prickle and burn, and he looked down, watching his skin begin to redden, and blisters formed. The blisters then popped, and his skin crackled again, before beginning to blacken and bleed. He roared in pain as he looked back, listening to the kid's screams as they were both burnt asunder. And as he melted and burnt, he watched the shockwave of the nuclear blast reach him, and this time, he looked upon it like a guardian angel.

Being blasted into atoms was better than burning alive, after all.

The blast hit him, and everything went black. The last thing he felt was his body being blasted into nothing, and the whoosing of the wind.

But this wind was angry. And burning.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_0940 hours._

_Main Bridge, Amacus-Class Supercarrier THS Solemn Reaper, In Orbit of the Trebia Relay, Trebia Relay, Apien Crest Cluster._

_The Reaper War, Battle of Palaven._

_Didact Irix Coronati. _

Irix Coronati, Head of the Turian Navy, and loyal patriot to the Hierarchy, was worried.

Normally, he was unfazed. As a turian, war was his lifestyle, his creation. He was molded in the art of combat, and defined by his ability to kill. All turians were warriors after signing up at the age of fifteen, and Irix knew this better than most, especially as he was Didact of the Turian Navy; one of the most prominent and important positions in the Hierarchy, hell, the Council, due to the turian fleet's significance in maintaining galactic peace. When it came to the galactic community, everyone knew of the turians, and either feared their wrath, or respected their audacity.

The turians had defeated every threat known to Palaven, and the Council, including their own people. They had united after the Unification War; they saved the galaxy from the krogan in the Rebellions. Palaven never fell, and neither did the turians. They were held together by three things alone; patriotism and devotion to the hierarchy, willingness to sacrifice for the greater good, and the need to protect those who could not defend themselves.

But now came an enemy even the turians couldn't comprehend.

Irix had heard the reports galaxy wide; a new enemy had reared its ugly head, an enemy called the Reapers, and it had practically toppled the Batarian Hegemony and Human Alliance in just six hours, capturing both of their homeworlds respectively; and now their next target was the heart of galactic military power itself; Palaven, birth place of the turian race.

Irix was worried because Palaven had never fallen before, but this enemy appeared to be unbelievably powerful, not to mention intelligent. The Systems Alliance had been the Hierarchy's only rival in terms of tactical brilliance, tenacity and strength; their navy rivalling the turians in sheer size. And even they had fallen easily to the Reaper onslaught; an invasion seemingly out of nowhere.

_And now they come to burn my world too. _But he wouldn't let it happen; the turians would not fall. They could not. The loss of Palaven would cripple the Hierarchy's resolve, and serve to weaken the Council. It was why he was here now; he had originally been assisting a task force set up by Primarch Fedorian himself; assigned to improving the Trebia System for possible enemy invasion; and all because a certain Garrus Vakarian had advised it. And now it was paying off.

The early warning systems they had in place had warned that the Reapers were splitting once more, leaving a fifth of their forces at Earth, and having the rest head straight for the Apien Crest. Their buoys detected them entering the cluster, and it gave them time to prepare and mobilize. The strongholds and defenses on Menae were garrisoned and activated, and the turian blackwatch, marines and army were all securing every major Palavade orbital space station, and major city; cities were evacuated, positions fortified. The turians were ready, with ArchGeneral Adrien Victus, a man he knew personally, moving to Menae to direct his troops from there.

Irix had elected to split his own ships. Half of his fleet; the First through to the Sixth, was positioned over Palaven, while the Seventh through to the Tenth aligned the system, waiting in reserve. Irix had the Eleventh through to the Sixteenth, all of them positioned behind the relay; their plan was to take the Reapers by surprise by hitting them in the back, use their own perceived enemy arrogance against them. The Reapers would believe that their enemy would be so misinformed on their abilities, that they'd try a head-on assault, and the Reapers would carve through them like they did at Earth and Khar'Shan; but they would find no easy victory here. The turians would wait behind the relay, and hit them from the rear with overwhelming force; torpedoes, nuclear ballistic rockets, cruise missiles, bunker busters, pulse lasers, GARDIANs, MAC guns, fuel rods, and the lot. And if that hadn't helped; they had deployed nuclear space mines around the relay's entrance, which means they'd be heavily weakened upon entry into the system.

Now, it was a waiting game. His supercarrier, the Solemn Reaper, as it was so ironically called, sat in the middle of the Fourteenth Fleet which was at the forefront of the relay defense. Numerous fighter wings sat around them, along with numerous frigates, destroyers, cruisers and a single battleship. His forces' six dreadnoughts were positioned all over, with their own escorts, and one seemed to be escorting its fleet's supercarrier, the THS Trebia's Reckoning, which had deployed all its fighter wings to defend its fleet upon orders of that fleet's admiral.

Irix stood on the bridge, galaxy map in front of him and his men's consoles awash with light as they typed. He stood there in full turian medium armor, the black of the colony of Baetus painting his features, his mandible silently twitching as he stood stiffly, hands clasped behind his back. He took in light breaths, maintaining the aura of a infallible battle commander to his troops. He had no idea just what he was expecting to face; weapons, numbers, armor, capabilities. All four of them were an unknown, the only thing he knew was that they were Reapers, and that their name was very fitting. And that was just enough to scare him.

He couldn't take the silence anymore. It might consume him. He raised his voice, flanged tones reverberating through the bridge, "Status update. What have our interior cluster beacons picked up?"

"The Reapers are advancing, but ableit slowly," one of his officers stated, "They seem to be taking their time sweeping the other systems before heading here. The Gemmae System has fallen, and they're moving towards Trebia, with the other third of their invading force cleaning up in the Castellus can assume they'll be here to bolster their forces soon."

Irix nodded. _They're neatralizing any threat our inner colonies and fortresses pose to their invasion of Palaven, so they'll dispose of them before moving to us. They know we're a threat, and won't be hasty like they did with the Kite's Nest and Local Clusters. They'll take their time here, and that'll give us the advantage. But to think that Trebia is the final bastion of the Apien Crest..._

"Estimation of their numbers?" Irix demanded, turning to his tactical officer, who immediately began running the numbers through his terminal. _I cannot show weakness or despair. Anything like that, and their morale will be crushed, and hope lost. Besides, the turian hierarchy has learnt from the Alliance's mistake; to destroy the Reapers, we must fight overwhelming force with overwhelming force; we don't meet them with a third of our navy, we meet them with our __**entire **__navy, all at once, everything we have. It'll have to be enough._ And Irix was lucky enough to have the heavy cruiser THS Seraph, part of the Twelfth Fleet, which had been fitted with one of the hierarchy's prototype thanix cannons; a weapon salvaged from the depths of Sovereign. _They won't expect us to fight them with their own weaponry. _The only other ships in the fleet with the technology was the dreadnought THS Incorruptible, which had two of them, and the destroyer THS Manevolence of Creed, both being part of the Fourth Fleet, and currently in the juristiction of the forces of Palaven.

The tactical officer replied, looking up at him, "The forces from Gemmae currently heading for us are around 52 in strength; with eleven Sovereign-Class capital ships, thirty-three troop transports, and the rest are Destroyers."

_Fifty-two. And that's not even accounting for their main bulk in the Castellus system, _"And the size of their main fleet?"

The operator gulped as he typed in the commands, and turned back to him, his features replaced with one of turian courage and valor, "In the thousands, sir. Sources indicate that a third is setting up a no-fly zone in the cluster, another third is making sure the cluster itself is clean, and the rest is attacking the Castellus System. All up, I count at least eight hundred and eighty-one capital ships, two-hundred and forty destroyers, five hundred troop transports, hundreds of others of types we cannot ascertain."

Irix gulped, not liking those numbers. _The least we can do is weaken them. The Batarians and Humans weren't able to kill any of them, but we'll be able to kill a couple, at least. Show the galaxy they can be destroyed; they ain't invincible, and give them a rallying cry._

"That's good enough Gunnery Master," Irix replied, giving him a curt nod of the head before turning to look back at his galaxy map, which had currently been replaced by a holographic representation of the Trebia System; its small, but old, sun lying in the middle, Aventen being closest to Trebia, followed by Caelax. Palaven itself, along with its moon, Menae, quickly followed, and then came the colony of Impera and Essenus. And at the very edge of the system, was Datruix.

The Hierarchy had set up colonies on Impera and Essenus, but they were mostly military-controlled installations; all of which had been abandoned and evacuated as soon as word of the Reaper invasion came, and all forces were garrisoned around Palaven; every turian knowing that the defense of their homeworld always came first.

"Sir!" An urgent voice called out, "We just received word from the Hierarchy! Taetrus has _fallen _to the Reapers! The Mactare System is gone!"

Irix's eyes widened. Taetrus had always been a symbol of the Hierarchy's ability to protect its people, and the triumph of good over evil ever since the separatist terrorist attack on its capital during the Unification War. But to learn that it had once again fallen...it would cripple the Hierarchy's resolve. _Spirits...this is becoming a harder fight than we originally thought._

"Those Reaper bastards," one turian hissed.

Irix raised an eyebrow from him, gaining enough strength to raise his head and look at him, "What?"

"They...I don't know, but they've tapped into our communications network and they're transmitting this image throughout all channels."

Irix watched the image pop up, and he had to stop himself from slouching or turning away. There, still as a freeze frame, as an image of Taetrus' capital lying in ruins, flames gushing up into its atmosphere and people dying in the streets, with Reapers raining death on the populace, along with others dropping from the sky. It was a slaughter house, and a voice spoke through the channel, causing them to flinch upon hearing its demonic, synthetic tone.

**"Your destruction is all but assured,"** the voice stated, **"The batarians and humans have fallen; it is not long before your race is also harvested. Surrender to your ascension, and you will know solace and tranquility. We are the Nazara. The Protheans, and the races of your cycle, called us the Reapers. We are your salvation through destruction. Meet your end with dignity, and you shall not have died in vain. Ascend to your new form...**_**Reaper**_** form," **the Reaper finished, its voice seeming to echo within his brain, **"Resist if you must, but know this, your time has come, and Harbinger will lead us to victory, as it always has in the many cycles before you. The Protheans fell, and so will you. I am Vanguard, and I bring you peace, alongside extinction."**

A pulse. He saw it, clear as day, and immediately zoomed in on the map to the Trebia Relay, where he, indeed, saw a pulse coming from the relay, followed by it getting more intense, meaning something was coming through. This was it; the enemy was here, and they would throw everything they had at the turians in an attempt to destroy them.

The images of Taetrus disappeared as he announced battlestations, ordering his comms officer to give him a direct line to all the fleets at the relay. They all knew their orders; he just wanted command when they joined in battle. Their fleets were in battle standard; a wedge formation of ships, ready to batter the enemy head-on. It was a tactic the turians used to great effect, and he would enjoy seeing it at work with their current foe.

_I am Vanguard, and I bring you peace, alongside extinction._

Irix braced against the railing, ready to engage. And just as he blinked, the relay flashed a final, brilliant blue, and the first Reaper came through, by the other fifty-one of them.

Irix closed his eyes as the multiple flashes of all the relay's nuclear mines detonating became too brilliant for him to watch. He could only close his eyes, and hoped when he opened them, that his fleet had done some damage.

Upon opening them again, he felt a small grin tug at his mandibles. The nuclear mines had done significant damage to the enemy; He watched the mangled, torn metal debris of a destroyer float away, red eye flashing in and out of existence, while two troop transports looked crippled, and drifting. Another Sovereign-Class Reaper had been blasted in half, and another had lost two of its legs. Overall, it was more kills than the rest of the galaxy had gotten. _And more than one kill. Lets finish them._

"Have the Undaunted and Resolute deploy their fighter wings to harass theirs," Irix ordered, "Then have the Plight, Retribution, Contrite and the Call for Balance FTL jump into the center of their formation and unloaded everything they have; take them by surprise. Have the rest of our ships pull back and unleash our payloads for a distance."

He watched the battle practically play itself; turian battle prowess always paying off. Swarms of winged dots shot out of the carriers Undaunted and Resolute, along with their defenses firing, and they engaged the enemy Oculi, small flashes signalling combat. Oculi seemed to harass the carriers' defenses, but they held out, allowing his fleets to pull back to a safe distance so as to not be in the Reapers' firing range.

He also watched as the dreadnoughts Plight of the Eleventh Fleet, Retribution of the Twelfth, Contrite of the Thirteenth and Call for Balance of the Fourteenth shot forward and disappeared as they entered faster than light travel, reappearing in a nanosecond in the Reapers' center; what happened next was just glorious. The dreadnoughts fired their weapons, and he watched as brighter flashes joined the already sustained engagement, but this time with multiple ICBMs going off, missiles impacting hulls, and numerous fuel rods and pulse lasers firing at the enemy, along with the ocassional report of a MAC gun.

He watched as the dreadnoughts finished off the half destroyed Reaper and the one with the missing legs, followed by the crippled troop transports. A Reaper capital ship turned to fire its main gun at one dreadnought, but sustained fire from the four dreadnoughts broke through the capital ships' shields, and eventually destroyed it. One Reaper destroyer managed to land ontop of the Contrite, but quickly found itself blown apart from the overwhelming gunfire placed on it, and it eventually exploded, showering debris through space.

The rest of the fleets in position, he ordered them to type in firing solutions and fire at will. The space between the two foes lit up; bright beams of red and blue, green and yellow ripped through the fabric of space and impacted the enemy, tearing into them. He watched one Reaper finally counterattack, red beam of light impacting and cutting clean through the Thirteenth's carrier, tearing through its barriers and armor like it all added up to nothing. Another Reaper followed suit, blowing into a light cruiser, but that was the last of the casualities the enemy wrought; two capital ships responsible quickly finding themselves blown to pieces from the sheer onslaught.

But then his eyes caught on one particular Reaper Destroyer, and it seemed to eye him with a malevolence, and he felt like he recognized it. And then he did. He didn't know how he knew, but that Reaper was the one that called itself Vanguard; the one that spoke in the image broadcasted on the news. _The one that mocked us about Taetrus. _

_I am Vanguard, and I bring you peace, alongside extinction._

He watched Vanguard land ontop of the Undaunted, and its defenses weren't enough to save it. The destroyer fired its beam, gutting the carrier from the inside and out, and Irix watched the laser tear through the other side, before swinging its body to the right, and cutting the vessel clean in half. The Resolute attempted to destroy Vanguard, but was simply swatted aside by one Reaper capital ship's leg, causing the carrier to collapse in on itself and fall apart.

A brillant beam of blue light erupted from the Seraph's belly, and he watched it connect with a nearby Reaper troop transport. The beam, after batting against the thing's shields, quickly broke through it and gutted the Reaper completely, destroying it. Satisfied with its victory, the Seraph gave itself time to recharge, and Irix shook his head. _If only we have more of those cannons on our ships...we'd win the war within a week._

Their onslaught continued for three minutes, their forces exchanging fire; for every ship a Reaper destroyed, the turians would destroy one, cripple or damage another. It was an even trade, and Irix found himself pleased with the results, if only alittle. He believed that the Battle of Palaven might just turn in their favor.

Then he watched as fourteen Reaper destroyers simply vanished into FTL, followed by four capital ships. And before he could ask where they went, they reappeared.

Inside of their fleet formation.

Upon reemerging, one capital ship had rammed into two frigates, causing them to blow apart like broken splinters of wood, and it immediately rose its leg, a hot tongue of molten tungsten shooting out and gutting a nearby destroyer. The Destroyers got to work tearing into his ships, managing to destroy six more of his warships in the time it took for them to emerge from FTL. The capital ships spread out, using the turians' surprise and arrogance against them as they began destroying ship by ship, turning the battle in their favor. Where once Irix had been winning, he was now losing at a rapidly declining rate.

Another beam of blue light pierced two Destroyers in a consecutive order, reducing them to heated pieces of metal in space, and Irix had to restrain himself from crying out in triumph as he watched the Seraph facing the enemy incursion, thanix cannon now fired and needing to cooldown. He ordered the Solemn Reaper turned around and its fighter complement deployed, noticing that the fighters from the Undaunted and Resolute were now gone; overwhelmed now that their carriers were gone and could not provide any support.

_These bastards think fast. They adapted more quickly and recovered more rapidly than I could have thought. An organic admiral would have been too stunned to do anything until it was too late; but they recovered unbelievably fast._

As he turned however, he could only watch as Vanguard ignored most of the ships around him and shot straight for the oblivious Seraph, a capital ship behind it simply ramming any ships that got in his way.

He heard its voice in his head as he saw the Seraph slowly turn to face the threat, but not fast enough, **"Your courage is admirable, and you have shown yourselves to be worthy opponents. But you are foolish; you cannot hope to escape your destiny. Your destruction is at hand."**

The Seraph charged up its thanix cannon, but Vanguard had already latched onto it, legs grasping its body like a blood-sucking mosquito, ensuring the heavy cruiser couldn't escape. Unable to fight back, the Seraph was blown apart as Vanguard fired its beam directly into its missile silos, detonating all the missiles inside in a cascade that broke the cruiser's spine, before causing it to depressurize, implode and then explode. And Vanguard, all the while during this, just lazily drifted off, as if killing had become so casual it was like completing a chore. The Seraph's debris drifted off, and Irix watched their action's only hope drift away. _Without its thanix cannon, we can't hope to hold off the main force when it gets here. I need the reserves..._

He moved to have the comms officer open a channel with the fleets in reserve, but watched as the four dreadnoughts he had FTL jump into the enemy fleet turned around and began firing long range at the enemy, hitting them directly. The troop transports weren't that much of a threat, so they focused mainly on the destroyers and capital ships. Streaks of light blew through space and slammed against shields and armor, doing damage all the same. And Irix felt some hope creep into his mind.

Only to have it stamped out again, this time much more violently, as the relay brimmed with activity once more.

The first capital ship through rammed straight into the Retribution, the dreadnought literally exploding outwards at the speed of the impact; like a shotgun's spread. But this capital ship wasn't normal; it was four kilometers larger than capital ships, and it had eyes; eyes that glowed brilliant orange. He had heard the Alliance's reports about this one. The leader of the Reapers, and the most powerful.

_Harbinger, they called it. They didn't exaggerate its size. Spirits..._

More of them poured through, and they just came in a neverending swarm. They seemed to completely ignore the debris of their fallen comrades and simply turned around, forming a wall of impenetrable armor that began to converge them, Harbinger taking up the rear to deal with the three remaining dreadnoughts.

The Contrite fired everything it had at Harbinger, but its shields simply absorbed the assault, and converged on the THS Plight. The Call for Balance turned onto a full broadside and gave the Reaper leader everything it had, but what it had wasn't enough, and Harbinger rammed into the Plight, scattered its crew and hull to the wind. Contrite and Call for Balance attempted to pull out of the engagement, but Harbinger wasn't having it, and its body lit up as four, bright red beams leapt out from its belly, the first cutting the Contrite completely in half, the second impacting the bow of the Call for Balance and coming out the other end. The third detonated the Contrite's fusion reactor, causing it to detonate in a brilliant flash, and the fourth cut the Call for Balance down the middle. In the span of seconds, Harbinger had wiped out four of the Hierarchy's dreadnoughts like they were nothing.

_Luckily for us, the Plight and the Contrite were up for decomissioning anyway; construction of the Salvation and Rupture was completely yesterday, and they were due to be launched at the Citadel tomorrow; luckily they're still there, so the Reapers can't destroy them. _Even so, the destruction of four of the turian navy's most powerful warships was a devastating blow, and Irix pondered how long before his own supercarrier fell victim.

Meanwhile, his fleets were being annihilated, and their victory wasn't so assured anymore. They had lost the element of surprise ages ago, and now the Reapers were free to use their overwhelming force tactics to obliterate the opposition. The Eleventh Fleet was all but completely devastated, with its flagship and admiral gone, along with the majority of its cruisers, destroyers and frigates. The Twelfth was quickly being overrun, and the Thirteenth's flanking tactic had been met with brute force. Vanguard and Harbinger were now tackling the Fourteenth, and it wasn't long before the Fifteenth and Sixteenth, unharmed by the combat apart from losing a few ships to the Reaper FTL counterattack, were called into engagement, and he would assuredly lose them as well.

_Only hope we have of regaining any favor in this is to regroup with the First through to the Sixth over Palaven and hope that our combined firepower can keep them at bay, or at least delay them until reinforcements from the Council can arrive. _He remembered the Hierarchy's creed, repeating it in his head.

_"Palaven has never fallen, and therefore the turian spirit has never died. You can stab it, rip it, blast it or mutilate it. You can mock it, you can burn it, you can question it, you can doubt it, but you cannot kill it. It exists in every turian; it is part of our being; its in our blood. Long live the Hierarchy; long live the Turian Empire, and let it be known that Palaven has never fallen, and the Siege of Menae during the Rebellions does not count. Fight our enemies brothers and sisters; and know that your spirit is undefeatable."_

_Palaven has never fallen; and it won't now. Not even to the Reapers._

He had to order a retreat to Palaven before all was lost. He turned to his comms officer, "Order a full retreat back to the fleets stationed at Menae. Inform them ahead in advance that we've engaged the enemy and inflicted losses, but they're main force arrived and overwhelmed us. Tell them...the Battle for Palaven has begun in earnest."

"Very well sir!" he turned back to his terminal, "Sounding the retreat!"

"Captain, get us to Menae, full combat speed!" Irix ordered, shouting down to his subordinate, "I wanted us there yesterday."

The captain didn't even acknowledge the command; here merely relayed it to his bridge crew, and Irix watched as numerous turians of many different colonial stripes and gender moved about, executing their orders like well-trained warriors of the hierarchy did, and he turned to gaze back at the map of the turian home system, shaking his head, sighing.

The Hiearchy had been hoping for a quick victory, and they'd be very disappointing. No, this war would be long and bloody, Irix could tell. And, as he watched his fleet break away and enter FTL, followed by the Solemn Reaper, he could only wonder at just how many more people would die before the Reapers were defeated; _if _they were defeated.

_I hate the Council, _he thought also, _If they had listened to Shepard three years ago, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess._

And now Palaven was paying the price for their inability to act.

He hoped Councilor Sparatus was contrite with himself.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1258 hours._

_Excavation Area, ExoGeni Research Dig, Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War._

_Powell._

The crate he was carrying was unbelievably heavy, probably containing numerous pieces of equipment he had no business poking around in. Either way, carrying it had been a bitch, and proven to be impossible with anyone with less strength than a krogan, so he had been forced to use a two-wheeled trolley to just move the damn thing around, and even pushing that had proven to be quite the challenge. Yet again, he wasn't exactly the mesomorphic type, and his body was pathetically limited its lifting option.

It had been three years since his experience in Colony Euphoria; he had been there during the outbreak of the Eden Prime War. He remembered just working, taking a nap, only to wake up and watch from behind a stack of crates as a mothership bigger than anything he'd ever seen descended from the sky and landed, its geth minions swarming all over the colony and butchering marine and civilian alike. They had reduced the colony to a smoking ruin, and all he had done was hide. Then he watched the spectre villain himself, Saren Arterius, murder Nihlus Kryik, if he remembered the name correctly, and simply walk off. It had also been the place he met _the _Commander Marcus Shepard, although he gathered it wasn't that much of an honor to know the man anymore.

_The guy blew up an entire star system full of batarians. Murderous freak._

Powell had resolved to staying on Eden Prime ever since then, deciding to move and live in Colony New Hope, on the opposite end of the planet. The Colony recently became famous a a few months ago when confirmation was reached that a massive prothean structure had been located under their colony, and two companies had come running to lay claim; ExoGeni Corporation, and Synthetic Insights. Of course, ExoGeni lay claim first, and before you knew it, they owned an entire excavationary dig dedicating to unearthing the structure and selling the technology to the Council for an outrageous amount of money. ExoGeni had promised to pay those a healthy sum of the profits if they helped in the dig, and Powell had signed up quicker than ever. And now here he was, moving crates around.

He felt ripped off.

The excavation was still ongoing, but they were getting very close now; a kilometer more, and they'd have full access to the structure below, and all its secrets. Its discovery could not only dwarf the Prothean Beacon discovery back at Colony Euphoria, but could make the Mars Archives discovery seem like child's play. Powell had to admit, he was intrigued. _That beacon almost got me killed, but this? Just what secrets are inside? And to think, its discovered on a human colony. The Alliance could just take this and keep it to themselves...just what lays down there?_

An ancient prothean stronghold? Outpost? Shipyard? Some long, lost city? Another stupid beacon? Maybe Eden Prime's equivalent of the Mars Archives? Just what was down there, and what prothean information did it hold? _Maybe it'll tell us just how the protheans build the mass relays and the Citadel...and then we could replicate it...huh, the first human-made Citadel and mass relays...then the Council will kiss __**our **__asses._

The thoughts were shaken away as he arrived at his destination, pulling the trolley to a stop and offloading the cargo onto the elevator. He took a peek down the shaft, and let out a whistle. The dig site was a square in shape, and was at least two kilometers in depth. A tree had been uprooted from its position and now lay at its side nearby, and Powell seemingly found himself being reminded of Earth; the long, green grass fields, and the blue and white sky. Mountains lining the landscape, and birds flapping in every direction. It really was Eden. _Looks just like Earth; almost an exact copy. _

He heard the drill down below, and looked up to see numerous ExoGeni personnel moving around the site in their grey uniforms, some wearing the yellow of excavation specialists in the corporation. Powell seemed out of place among them; what, with him and his brown beanie, messy hair, rough stubble, and dirty clothing. He seemed like a gutter rat compared to them.

He sniffed, and didn't like what his nose picked up. _When my shift is done, I'm definitely taking a shower. Maybe a cold one._

Shifting the trolley out from under the crate, he moved it away and was wheeling back towards the settlement to retrieve another one when he heard a familiar voice shout out from behind him, and he turned to face the origin.

Patty ran towards him, her short, auburn hair matted as it usually was, and calm blue eyes staring into his with urgency. They had been dating for a while now, but at the moment it wasn't quite a relationship, and more of a flirting sort of establishment. But he gathered it was better than loneliness. _Noone else in this colony seems to appreciate me. _Seeing her approach, he smiled, but dropped it upon seeing the urgency in her eyes in its fullness, "What's wrong, sweetcheeks?"

She ignored the flirtaeous attempt and shook her head, waving to the back of the colony, "Haven't you seen the news reports?"

"No. You know I don't watch that stuff," Powell grimaced, leaning against the trolley's handle, "Its mostly just anti-Shepard batarian propaganda and more Alliance ass-kissing for the Council."

"This is serious, Powell," she gulped, "Earth's fallen. So has Khar'Shan. And they say Palaven is under attack even as we speak."

His ignorant gaze seemed to melt instantly upon hearing the first sentence, "I...what? How...I...what?"

"Yeah, happened two days ago, but we're only just hearing about it. Apparently the Council kept it secret to avoid a galaxy wide panic, but when batarians started flooding into the Citadel, telling tales of the enemy that annihilated their entire navy in a single blow, the Council just caved in. Khar'Shan fell first, followed by Earth two hours later, and all within the same day. Palaven came under attack just a few hours ago, and the attack's on going. They say the Council is just paralyzed with indecision, but they all agree that military mobilization and retaliation is the only answer. They're calling them the Reapers; apparently Shepard warned them three years ago about them, but they didn't listen, but he was right."

Powell gulped again, looking at the ground in shock. He couldn't believe it. Earth was gone? _Why can't my days just go without a hitch? First I'm attacked on some colony by geth, then I'm on a colony that's almost abducted by Collectors, and now I've heard my homeworld's been invaded by an enemy we thought was a myth._

"This day just gets better and better," Powell mumbled.

"What?"

He looked up at her, sighing as he moved to repeat what he had said, "I _said _that this day just gets-"

A thunderous boom swept through the colony, and everyone seemed to duck instinctively, entering crouched positions on the grass. Patty cried out as she looked up at the sky, as did everyone else, looking towards the source of the boom.

They found its source pretty quickly; the sight of an Alliance Destroyer hovering over the colony was hard to miss. It hung in the atmosphere, parting the clouds with its approach, and it hung over them, its guns aimed at them. Normally, Powell wouldn't be running for the colony in safety, Patty's hand in his own. But there was something wrong with this destroyer; it wasn't flying the blue and white of the Alliance, and wasn't flying its insignia; instead, it was a deep mix of gold and white, with a golden hexagon on its rear and bow, all its guns aimed at them whilst deploying what looked to be a dozen shuttles of the same colors and insignia, and it was his sudden realization that sent him running. Even during all the batarian propaganda, he had seen the reports of the human terrorist organization, and its unforseen rise to power.

The destroyer was Cerberus. And they were here to take the colony.

Even as he was moving into the colony, the first kodiak landed, deploying its complement of troops; soldiers wielding heavy looking shields, packages on their backs, and others were wreathed in biotic flame, others simply carrying powerful looking weapons. One by one they stepped out and began to open fire, gunning down everyone in sight. Patty began to scream as they watched the people they knew and didn't know get gunned down like animals, and Powell ran for the nearest bunker, terrified out of his mind. He rushed into the bunker, Patty right behind him as they sat inside, Powell locking the door and catching his breath.

He heard more gunfire outside, followed by more screaming, and the sounds of more shuttles landing all over the colony. He heard a thunderous report nearby as a colony portable suddenly erupted into a towering geyser of flame and smoke, blown apart by a GARDIAN missile. He was confused at first, but then he remembered the Cerberus destroyer currently hanging over them. _Oh crap. What do we do?_

He crawled over to Patty, and the woman looked at him with tears in her eyes, trying to muffle her sobs by holding a hand over her mouth. A Reaper attack was expected, but by Cerberus? The terrorist organization chose one hell of a time to attack out of nowhere. He patted her shoulder and urged her to keep moving, despite the terror that chilled his bones at that very moment. But right now the flight instinct was strong in him, and he had to get them out of here.

Taking her hand once more, he ignored the gunfire outside and rushed into the opposite portable, sliding behind a ExoGeni employee's desk, which was currently unoccupied, for obvious reasons. He almost cried out when he heard the glass shatter from an explosion, followed by what sounded like cybernetically modified voices, likely Cerberus', shouting out orders, followed by more scream. A few more reports from the destroyer sounded, followed by more thunderous explosions. Colony 'New Hope' had become a battlefield in the space of no time, and Powell and Patty were right in the middle of it.

"Thought I saw someone in here," one soldier muttered, the sounds of gunfire dying down as the battle moved further into the colony and towards the dig site, "I'm going to check it out."

He heard, and felt, a tremor rock the ground, followed by another, and then another. It became a rthym, and he realized it was something moving. As it got closer, he heard the creak and groan of metal moving against metal, followed by the sound of a heavy cannon firing, and then reloading. Judging by the harsh steps, he figured it was a YMIR mech.

Peeking over however, showed that it wasn't the UAV he thought it was; it was an Atlas mech, and it sported Cerberus' colors. A bullet whizzed past his head, and he realized he had been spotted as a squad of Cerberus troopers pointed at the building they hid in and started chasing them, bullets nearly hitting them. Both himself and Patty made a run for the door, and he could hear the footsteps of soldiers behind him, followed by more shooting.

They leapt inside and locked the door, his eyes never leaving the door as he slid to the ground, landing on his ass with a hard thump. He heaved, trying to catch his breath, terror etched in his features. He squeezed Patty's hand, but before some reason, she wasn't squeezing back, and she felt limp. He turned around to check if she was okay, and this time, he did cry out.

Patty's face was mess, drenched in blood where her entire forehead had essentially been blown off by the impact of a heavy bullet impact to the back of her head. What was left of her skull was broken fragments, and blood squirted out every once and a while. His body wracked with sobs as he watched the woman he had been growing to like lie there, drenched in blood and very dead. He cradled her body, and barely heard the door open behind him, unable to take his eyes off of her. "There he is," one soldier rasped.

Powell panicked, his cowardice making him immediately turn to flee. He met the soldier's eyes, and only managed to choke out a yelp before he took aim at Powell's head, and pulled the trigger. A split second of pain, and it was all over.

The same couldn't be said for Colony New Hope, however. And little had Powell known, but it wasn't just New Hope that was under attack.

Pretty soon, Eden Prime would be a Cerberus-occupied colony, and with noone but the Reapers nearby, noone could do a thing about it.

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_1416 hours._

_War Room, The New Order Headquarters, Dyuko District, Omega._

_The Reaper War, the Occupation Crisis._

_General Oleg Petrovsky._

Omega. The tumor of an entire galaxy. And it was all his.

How, how honored he would feel if the place looked just a bit presentable. Luckily, his army of forty thousand and sizable fleet of warships was seeing to that renovation, while also keeping the local populace under strict laws and penalties. It wasn't a dictatorship he ran, but more of a station under temporary martial law, which would clear up once Cerberus had defeated the Reapers and taken control of galactic government. Something that Petrovsky wouldn't get to pertake in.

He looked down on what the Illusive Man had titled the 'New Order' HQ, in reference to the defeat of Aria's leadership over the station and the insertion of Cerberus as Omega's official ruler and owner. Petrovsky had only controlled it for a year, but he had made short of making his presence known to the station; his ships perodically patrolled the Omega airspace, the Sahrabarik Relay, and the surrounding cluster, while his dreadnought, the CAW Elbrus, remained in low orbit over the station. His troops scoured the station, securing every nook and cranny, and making sure that the adjutants were sufficiently locked away in the space station's lower levels.

So he stood, in what used to be Upper Afterlife, and what was now the headquarters of Cerberus control on Omega. With the space station in their grip, they had a large tactical advantage in this sector of space, and the Illusive Man intended on keeping it, and Petrovsky wasn't one to disappoint.

He looked down upon the once thriving strip club. The middle section where asari dancers had once stood on display had been completely torn down, now replaced with a biotic inhibitor; almost exactly the same as the one Aria had been in. Two struts poked out from it left and right, and once the person was inside, it imprisoned them in a stasis field, ensuring they couldn't escape. The rest of the room had suffered a dramatic change as well; the edge had been given two levels, with the upper level being the home of multiple terminals, control centers and experimental technology, while the bottom level was mostly vidscreens, allowing quick debriefings by his troops. Ashe would have been in command down in Lower Afterlife, which had been transformed into a barracks, but the idiot just had to have gotten himself killed.

_The man was a racist moron anyway. He jeopardized the safety of my men, the people of Omega, and himself. He had to be removed. _Ashe's remains, or at least, his adjutant form's remains, had been vented to space, never to be seen again. The Illusive Man hadn't seemed too bothered with the loss, but he had made sure Ashe was replaced, so now a new colonel commanded the barracks.

Omega's defenses had also gotten an upgrade since Aria T'Loak's exile. The defense cannons, he had to admit, were very powerful on their own, having been krogan anti-ship guns dating back to the Krogan Rebellions, and probably would have made short work of his dreadnought. But they were slow and cumbersome, and Cerberus had a much better idea.

The Illusive Man may have lost the Collector Base, but he had eventually gained access to the galactic core (through means he didn't question) and recovered parts of a destroyed Collector Cruiser, including the schematics for particle weaponry. It wasn't quite a Reaper's thanix cannon, but it was close. And TIM had immediately known where these weapons could be used best.

So the old krogan defenses had been destroyed, removed and replaced with brand-new, Cerberus-constructed, particle beam ship-to-ship surgical attack-defense weapons. They sat on rotating plates and were essentially a large gold and white metal box, golden hexagon on their side, with a barrel sticking out. They didn't fire the orange particle beams of a Collector ship, but rather a more crimson colored variant. But colors mattered nill; if these beams had the same destructive firepower of a Collector cruiser, then that's all that mattered. As it was, Omega was now lined with these things, making defense of the station much easier for the Cerberus occupiers.

_And it'll offer a surprise for Aria if she ever intends on coming back to reclaim her station, like she promised she would._

His rule over Omega had all been but assured, but there was one little setback, and it had sparked the Occupation Crisis that Cerberus was currently in right now.

The Talons; a mercenary group on Omega, apparently weren't happy with the new arrangements, and had staged an uprising; an attempted coup d'etat, if you will, to overthrow him and retake Omega. Their leader was an unknown, but his subordinate commanders had promised they would find and put an end to him, whilst also destroying their Talons. Even now, the mercenary's territory was slowly falling to them, and while their guerrilla warfare tactics were an issue and had made many of his supply runs a detrimental effort, they were being overwhelmed, and therefore his worries should be irrelevant.

The one thing that had him worried was that Aria may be behind the sudden uprising. _Who else? She must have somehow contacted the Talons, told them to stage an uprising, whilst buying her time to regroup and counterattack. She hopes to catch Cerberus fighting a two-front war, and hopes to overwhelm us that way. A clever strategy, but one that's already falling back. She's lost her chance to attack, and now the Talons are slowly falling apart._

Aside from that little irritation, all was going well for Cerberus on Omega. They controlled and regulated a major part of the Terminus Systems, Eden Prime, he was informed, had fallen recently, and they had access to a large cache of prothean tech, and their agents reported that Operation: Fallen Angel was well into its phase two, and were now preparing to launch the invasion.

Either way, Cerberus' only problem would be the Reapers, and Petrovsky knew the Illusive Man would have a long-term plan for controlling them; once they managed to gain control over them, Cerberus would have the force it needed to subjugate the galaxy under its rule; under humanity's rule.

Petrovsky sighed, leaning heavily against the railing he stood behind, stroking his beard. _But is it right? Morally? I joined Cerberus because the Alliance wasn't for humanity; it was for itself. I came here thinking the Illusive Man was fighting for humanity where others wouldn't, but the invasion of Eden Prime and planned attack on many other colonies seems to prove we're doing the opposite. It is good that I don't have anything to do with those; although, maybe that's how the Illusive Man had planned it out..._

Omega. His rule. His base of operations. He had a fleet and an army entire at his hands, and instead of fighting the Reapers with it, an enemy they should all be fighting, he was here, guarding a space station. _My skills are better in the thick of battle; but now I'm stationary, my skills dormant, and my brainpower used to maintain an entire spacebound city. My potential is wasted here, I know that much, but if Cerberus wants me to hold this station, then so be it. For humanity._

He turned to walk away, returning to his desk as he activated his terminal, letting out a heavy sigh as he sat down in the seat and began searching his encrypted inbox for any messages from Cerberus Headquarters. He thought to himself where his skills could be used aside from rooting out the Talons.

Then he remembered Aria T'Loak, the original ruler of Omega and of the Terminus Systems in their entirety.

Yes, if she kept her promise, she would be giving him a worthy chance to prove his superiority in the arts of combat.

Or he could end up like another Napoleon. Either way, he would get the fight he wanted.

Petrovsky had a feeling he'd be waiting awhile, however.

**"The war had spread far faster than we first thought."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"And I was light years away, playing the admiral. We didn't even know the Reapers were out there."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"What about afterward? You mentioned getting a message that made you smile. What was that about?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"The beginning of the framework of a counterattack; a year in the making. And all because of one crazy, old bastard."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Garrus? Kal'Reegar? Really guys? No offense, but I told you to guess at who the guy Shepard was referring to was, and that the hint was that he was a 'mercenary.' Garrus has long since stopped being Archangel, and Kal'Reegar was never a merc to begin with. And now, with the words 'one crazy, old bastard,' it should be more obvious than ever. So obvious, that I'm not going to tell you, and you'll have to figure it out yourself.**_

_**As promised, this was a 'view' of the galaxy at how different people are dealing with the war. As you've noticed, I've given points of view from those suffering from the Reapers, and those from Cerberus, just to show you that this is a multi-front conflict; the Reapers are the main enemy, but Cerberus are really going to be a pain in the ass, as you all know. I was going to add a section with Aria on the Citadel, and then one with soldiers fighting on Earth, but they seemed pointless, and just seemed like they were dragging on the story, so I got rid of them. Don't worry, that doesn't mean battles on Earth or appearences of Aria are out of the question; I just didn't see a good reason to put them in this already sizable chapter.**_

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers. I think you guys will love the next chapter; its literally focused entirely on...well, I'll leave you to figure it out. Suffice to say, its epic, and you guys should love it.**_


	6. Chapter 5 Fortune Favors The Bold

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER FIVE:**

**FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD**

_June 3, 2186_

_1302 hours._

_Lower Wards, Original Site of Chora's Den, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

The Lower Wards were dead silent, not a sound to be heard among their cold, dead, abandoned walls except for their echoing footsteps. Marcus remembered this place all too well from three years ago; when he walked these exact halls to reach Chora's Den to rescue Tali; a quarian with intel he needed, only for him to run into and meet Wrex. He remembered how dirty and disgusting they had been, and how that extended to their equally disgusting inhabitants. The Lower Wards had been the Citadel's own little Omega; and now they were just ruins; noone had even bothered trying to fix the area.

He walked through what used to be the lower market, heading for the exit door, which had been completely twisted off the hinge, torn aside and a blue curtain of sorts hanging over it. The place was so silent it seemed to whisper to them as they passed; the hiss of gasses above giving the place a horror-like theme.

They moved through the doorway, coming across an inactive rapid transit terminal and heading into the overpass where Chora's Den was located. Turning left, he recognized the square-like interior of the pass, and the old sign, an asari dancer lying down in a sexual pose, was no longer lit, and some of it had been destroyed by debris.

They weren't alone, and Marcus felt himself smiling as they moved towards the old entrance, where debris still lay where it hadn't been removed. Multiple figures stood along the bridge, either holding SMGs, shotguns, assault rifles, pistols or sniper rifles, along with the occassional missile launcher or flamethrower. Had this been one year ago, Marcus would have been among them in combat armor, weapon in hand, and gunning them down, but today their blue armor was let unbloodied, and this time they weren't trying to kill him. He had his friend to thank for that.

They all stared at him, clad in blue armor from light, to medium to heavy; turians, humans and the occassional batarian. He heard a few batarians growl at him, but he ignored their gaze, heading for the lone figure who stood ahead, his armor standing out in the crowd of Blue Suns troopers.

One woman stood at his side, arms crossed and clearly the one in command. She wore a full helmet, her assault rifle holstered on her back. She cocked her hips on her right side, standing beside the mercenary who now called himself the leader of the Blue Suns.

"You actually came," the bounty hunter muttered, "Thought I might have been interrupting some goddam Council meeting. Wouldn't want to piss off our four fucking overlords."

"I'm done with those four fucking overlords," Marcus returned with a smirk, holding out his hand for the man to take, "I have to say, I didn't expect to get a message from you Zaeed, but bringing an army of mercs onto the Citadel? Expected that even less."

Zaeed Massani was just as grizzled as he had looked a year ago when he last saw him. The man was the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy, and for good reason; the crazy shit the old man had done would have earned him a number of statues in his honor; whether it was killing krogan battlemasters and taking their helmets, or blowing up turian warships; the man had done it. Even survived one bullet shot to the _forehead _after being betrayed by his co-worker, and then survived being _blown to pieces _by numerous more bullet wounds. He was a freak of nature, and the man was old enough to be his father. Numerous scars occupied his face, and his left eye was a white, cybernetic iris, giving it a very creepy look. His old armor was chipped, burnt and riddled with bullet holes, but it was working. And what only furthered the captain's smile was the avenger assault rifle on his back; Jessie he called it; a rifle the man had an insane attachment to.

And with his co-worker dead, by his own hands no less, Zaeed Massani had uncontested control over the Blue Suns organization, and all for one purpose; to provide a fighting force for battling the Reapers. _At least its something._ Getting the Eclipse and Blood Pack on their side would be one hell of a challenge, but Marcus would find ways. _I'm sure Zaeed will have some ideas..._

"If you stop expecting things from me, you won't ever be goddam surprised ever again," Zaeed replied, shaking his head as he crossed his arms, jabbing a finger at the men around him, "And I have to admit; having all these grunts to take fire for me has been great. Means I get to live longer, and the longer I live, the closer my retirement plan seems to be getting. Of course, I don't think that'll be happening very soon if I hear the reports are correct, and not just fearmongering bullshit."

"Its true Zaeed," Marcus replied, grin dropping almost immediately, his voice taking on a solemn tone, "The Reapers are here."

The merc spread his arms out wide, giving a mock look of surprise, "Well I'll be fucking buttfucked; we were _right? _And I thought for a second those retarded monkeys actually had half a molecule worth of a brain to be goddam right for a change. I'd love to stay 'we were right, and I'm loving it,' but I guess the destruction of all life isn't really something to celebrate is it?"

"Khar'Shan's fallen. Earth's fallen. Palaven or Sur'Kesh are probably next, if the Council tells it right," Liara spoke up, coming to stand beside Marcus with an inquisitive brow, "The Reapers have already butchered and harvested hundreds of thousands, most likely. Millions more will follow."

Zaeed turned to the asari, "Well its lucky we have a lot of fucking guns, isn't it? We'll get to even the odds," he waved to the Blue Suns around him, and turned to Marcus, "These sorry bastards are all yours to command, Shepard. He want us to blow up a fucking Reaper? Consider it done. Want some assholes to die so you can extract? I have the troops provided. All these assholes need is targets to shoot at. They'll do the rest..."

Marcus didn't like how the mercenary finished his sentence; like he wanted to add something else, but trailed off on purpose to let him know their was a catch. _There always is. If there's one thing I've learnt by now, nothing is ever easy. But I'll do anything to get the Blue Suns under my belt. I don't like crawling into a bed with a mercenary organization, but I __**need **__them to defeat the Reapers. I need them for the alliance I'm forming._

"But?" He finally felt the word leave his lips, like a breath of air on the wind that he wanted out of the way in a hurry.

Zaeed sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against a nearby piece of rubble and scratched his chin, "There's been a complication. Remember that cunt I told you about; Vosque?"

Marcus' eyes narrowed menacingly, "Darner Vosque. I remember him. You said he was the leader of the Blue Suns, and that you were going to 'relieve' him of command when you took over. What happened?"

"I got fucking soft," Zaeed growled, motioning to the woman nearby to finish the rest.

Her voice was soft but hardened, like that of a soldier, "Vosque didn't fight back when Zaeed took over; he just let him have the organization, and to our surprise, Massani just let him live. He made Vosque head of the Citadel division and, until recently, things were running smoothly. Now it seems Vosque has gotten a bit greedy and treacherous, and hopes to join Aria T'Loak's forces."

"Omega is a long way from here," Marcus commented, "And if I know Aria, she won't let just anyone see her."

"Aria isn't on Omega anymore," the woman shrugged, "She's here. On the Citadel. Vosque plans to meet with her soon, but we hope to eliminate him beforehand, and have Zaeed take over in his place with the negoitations with Aria."

"Why give you some blue-armoured cunts, when I give you Aria's cunts as well?" Zaeed piped up, revealing his plan, "My mercs are good, but Aria's a real badass; and I doubt the Reapers scare that bitch."

_Goody. Wound up in mercenary politics. Although its slightly more enjoyable than Council politics, its still a tad on the tedious side. But I'm not certainly not looking a gift horse in the mouth. But why would Aria come here? She hates the Citadel. She wouldn't ever leave Omega, unless she has no choice..._"Do you have any idea why Aria would be here?"

"Not a single one. But everyone agrees that whatever got her to come here, its royally pissed her off," the female Blue Suns officer spoke again, "Damn near choked a C-Sec officer to death with her biotics for simply asking for ID. Then she shoved Councilor Tevos' communicator in his face, and stormed off to Purgatory; its a clu-"

"I know what and where Purgatory is," Marcus deadpanned, turning back to Zaeed, "What worries me is this Vosque figure," his voice became ice, "He sounds like he needs to be removed." _Noone is going to get in the way of this alliance. I'm done with being diplomatic to these scum. They either get in line, or I'll find someone to replace them. Vosque is no different. I'll kill him, and the Blue Suns will be mine. Every single soldier. _

He looked around him, imagined the face of every single merc in the room; they would die under his command. Just when did he start seeing soldiers as a resource? If he starts thinking like that, what makes him any different to the Reapers? _Next I'll be recruiting husks for my army. I'm nothing like the Reapers. I won't let those bastards define who I am._

"Which is exactly why I'm goddam here. To remove a thorn from my ass," Zaeed hissed, "That, and a whole bunch of mercs to help me, and my second-in-command, Jentha there. I planned on ambushing Vosque, but when I learnt you were here, I thought you'd like to deal with him yourself. He's fucking with your plans, afterall."

"You're letting me deal with your traitor?" Marcus asked, flabbergasted, "Why?"

"Truth is, I guess I goddam owe you a life," the bounty hunter replied, grunting, "You helped me kill Vido when you didn't fucking have to. That asshole plagued my life for twenty years, and here you were, willing to kill the fucker. You let me put a bullet between his fucking eyes. So let me return the favor. Vosque is all yours; the only left to you is how you kill him."

"Very well," Marcus declared, turning to Liara, "I'll run through the plan with Zaeed, Liara. Could you return to the ship and grab our armor and weapons for us? I'm expecting a fight."

"Do you want me to have Keeling and James suit up?" The asari asked, concern in her eyes.

"No. There's no need. Let them enjoy their shore leave," he stated, waving a dismissive hand and shaking his head, "Just you, me, Jentha, Zaeed, and a whole lot of Blue Suns. They're only mercs; we've fought a whole lot worse."

"That we have," Liara smiled alittle, turning to leave, "I'll be back soon with our equipment. Try not to run off anywhere. I'd hate to tell Tali that I lost you."

The grin remained on his face with her final sentence, but it no longer reached his eyes, mind conjuring up images of his quarian wife. _Damn it, where are you? What are you doing out there? I need you, and you're nowhere to be seen. _He had tried contacting her through her normal inbox earlier on, but she either had changed its extranet IP address, or she simply wasn't replying. He didn't like to think she was ignoring him. She would never do that, would she? _Damn this war. I might have found her already, if it wasn't for the damn Reapers...and now Cerberus. _

Liara saw the look in his eyes and hastily left, trying not to let those thoughts linger.

Marcus dropped his smile entirely, setting a grim facade on his features to wipe away the emotion he secretly held. Turning to Zaeed, he spoke, ice in his tone, "I've got a war to win, Zaeed, and alot of armies to raise, lets get this over with. We'll find Vosque, kill him, and then I'll leave. And your certain that the Blue Suns will fight for me? For the galaxy?"

"They'll fight for me," Zaeed corrected, thumping his chest, "And I've fought alongside you. You're a crazy motherfucker, Shepard. Calling you my friend would be too goddam soft, but I've definitely come to know you as a comrade. So when the call for battle comes, call me, and I'll rally the troops and we'll charge in, guns fucking firing. The Blue Suns will be yours Shepard, on your terms, and my own. So, are we ready to kill this asshole, or what?"

Marcus nodded, squaring his shoulders and stretching them, "We'll wait here for Liara to come back. Once I've got my armor and weapons, we'll storm Darner's base."

"You need armor, Shepard? You've gotten fuckin weak," Zaeed chuckled.

"I'm not stupid or invincible, you old bastard," the man threw back equally, shaking his head, "I'm a mortal, just like you, and I need my armor as much as the next guy," deciding to change the subject, he asked for some intel, "Just where is Darner meeting Aria anyway? I'm assuming he'd do it at his base."

"You give him too much credit," Jentha replied, uncrossing her arms, "No, the imbecile's doing it right out in the open; just outside the Consort's Chambers on the Presidium. Aria is apparently well known here, and C-Sec seems to have cleared the area completely. Apparently Tevos' given her free reign, and Aria plans on taking advantage of as much of that privledge as possible."

"A Councilor's word on the Citadel might as well be law. I'm not surprised C-Sec has laid off," Marcus replied, scratching his forehead, "But if Darner and Aria are meeting in the middle of the Presidium, we can't launch a full assault. I won't do anything that harms innocent civilians."

"You think C-Sec's stupid, Shepard? They know how these meetings go; gunfights are commonplace," Zaeed waved a hand as a dismissive gesture, "No, the whole goddam section is like a ghost town. Even the Consort's Chambers are locked up tight, and its residents left a while ago. We'll have the whole place to ourselves."

The captain snorted, sighing. _The first time I've fought on the Presidium since the Battle of the Citadel three years ago. Luckily for us, that was against geth and husks. If mercs is all we have to worry about, this battle will be over very quickly._

Marcus' response was quick and to the point, "Then all we can do is wait."

And wait they did.

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1338 hours._

_Outside the Consort's Chambers, Presidium, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, First Lieutenant Jentha Renmark._

Today was one of the days where he truly hated Alliance standard issue combat armor.

Not only was it pathetic in how much punishment it could take, but it was so light that it felt like it wasn't even wearing it. He might as well be naked for all the difference it made; and only the guns on his back gave him any reassurance that he was safe, and even those weapons were seriously lacking, save his SMG and shotgun.

_First chance I get, new armor, new assault rifle. Might even try to find where my old Locust SMG went, along with my Claymore. I like the Piranha, but the claymore is just better. A proper krogan's weapon, Wrex would say..._He strode forward, armoured boots clacking against the metal floor with each step, this part of the Presidium feeling eerily empty for an area that was meant to be the most populated, especially with the rich and cosmopolitans of every stripe. _C-Sec did a good job evacuating the place._

"What's with the shitty weapons, Shepard?" Zaeed piped up, eying the weapons on his back, "They look piss-weak."

"Oh come on, you hypocrite. You use an Avenger," he shot back, "Besides, never said I liked them. Alliance practically force fed them to me; same with the armor. Believe me, I'll be getting new ones soon. I ain't sticking to these. Only weapon they couldn't take away from me was my biotics."

Zaeed snorted, turning away as he unholstered his own avenger assault rifle, "Jessie's different. I've upgraded her in many a different way, and now she packs a goddam punch ever since that Reegar guy fixed it. Yours is unchanged, unmodified, and that makes it pure shit in my books; could for nothing but shooting a wall with, and there's no satisfaction in that. I like to watch the blood squirt out of the men and women I kill. Makes it real; let's me know I've killed something."

"That's awful," Liara piped up, clad in her white armoured labcoat and Tempest SMG in hand, "To take joy from killing people is horrific and barbaric. Its just plain sadistic."

"Shepard didn't recruit me for my charm and calm words, asari," Zaeed replied, "He recruited me because I'm the meanest motherfucker in the Terminus Systems, and only second to Aria. People don't fuck with me and live to be smug about it, and that gains me influence over some pisspots. And one particular bunch of pisspots just happens to be people Shepard needs. Get with the goddam picture, girl, or the Reapers'll wipe the floor with you. War is ugly, I've gotten used to it, hell, thrived on it."

Liara looked about to protest, but Marcus just held his hand up to stall her, moving forward, "Zaeed's right, and while I don't agree with taking pleasure in it, getting used to it is necessary. We can't afford to play the censorship and paragade game when it comes to this war. If we want to win, we have to be ruthless. That means taking joy from the few kills we get. Its brutal, Liara. But you have to get used to it, or it'll only consume you, spit you out, and kill you."

"I didn't expect that from _you _of all people!" Liara objected, "What would Garrus say? What would-"

Before she could even say his wife's name, he spun towards her, halting his march and facing her, a chill in his tone, "Garrus would agree with me, and so would Tali, with a bit of convincing. They know what is at stake Liara; something you've failed to contemplate. You were willing to let people get murdered just to take down the Shadow Broker; what makes this war any different, hmmm?"

"I..." she replied, shaking her head, "You can't just gamble with people's lives!"

"And you can't pretend that I'm fucking God!" he growled, poking a finger in her chest, "I can't fucking save every goddamn person in the galaxy! I'm going to have to make choices that'll end families, kill husbands and wives, and possibly end the futures of children. But if it means I save the galaxy, then I might just be able to sleep, knowing what I did. Its something that'll always haunt me, but do you think I'll like it? If you assume that I do these things and like it, you've seriously got your head screwed the wrong way. You know me better than that. You fought beside me against Saren, for godsake."

"Yes, I do know you," she replied, almost in a whisper, "I know you would always look for another way. You wouldn't just go straight for the throat without a single other thought."

"I had time then. Time to think," with a final glance in her direction, he turned and began to leave, "We're out of time, and decisions are needed now. Come on, we've got to keep moving or we'll miss the meeting altogether."

Zaeed and Jentha moved past Liara, and the asari sighed, moving to catch up, unwilling to remember what Marcus had just said. _This war has already changed him, and its barely started. Or was it Aratoht that changed him? _She was beginning to think it was. The destruction of three hundred thousand must have been really hard on him. _And now he's closing himself off, piece by piece, and becoming the cold man I see now. Goddess, please don't stoop to that level..._

She finally caught up to him, and just as Marcus and the group reached four Blue Suns troopers: one turian, three batarians. All of them carried vindicator battle rifles, and one batarian had his blue tech armor activated, all four sending Zaeed glares. Marcus knew there was a column of Blue Suns loyalists behind them and ready to back them up, but Vosque's separatists were an unknown variable. He had no idea how many there were.

And, with a shift in his cold expression, realized he didn't care. They would all die equally if they got in the way of this alliance. _Enough mister nice guy._

"We know why you're here, Massani," the batarian in tech armor growled, "Better leave right now, before we comm Vosque and tell him your here. I'm sure he'd love a nice exchange of bullets. Maybe he'll finish the job Santiago started."

"Move aside, blink, or I'll pop you a new hole," the mercenary spat, moving to stand next to Marcus' left, who stood there like a statue, finger fumbling at the magnetic clamp holding his shotgun, "I'm not in the mood to be yanked around, and this little rebellion will gain you nothing. I took control for one reason; to help fight Reapers."

"We fight for money, not for politicians. Or did you forget that when you took control, Massani?" the batarian laughed, "Your fucked. Fuck the Reapers, and fuck you and your cause. Drag the rest of the Blue Suns to death, but do not bother involving us. Now leave, or we'll open fire."

A dark laugh was their only reply, and the four Blue Suns could only watch as the batarian in tech armor was wrapped in biotic fire and thrown across the bridge and into the water, where his armor dragged him under and began to drown him. The rest became tense and all of them eyed Shepard, who's eyes were full of malice.

"You were given one chance to not get in my way. I'm done talking," he raised his shotgun and fired, blasting the head clean off the turian's shoulders, causing the other two to open fire, "Now you die."

A biotic lash wrapped around one of the batarians and pulled him towards Liara, who had an SMG waiting. Once he was within range, she fired two bursts, which split his belly and killed him, and the asari dropped him on the bridge like a ragdoll. Zaeed strode forward, his avenger ripping into the last batarian's back, who had tried to run away, but had simply been gunned down. The merc turned to Marcus, who strode forward once more, like an emotionless robot, "What the fuck turned you into such a goddam hardass?"

The N7 didn't even respond, simply ignoring Zaeed as he marched forward, the man willing them forward without so much as a word. Zaeed got the hint and moved forward, shouldering his rifle, while Jentha took up his rear, giving Liara a quizzical gaze as she moved. Liara simply shrugged and followed, the column of Blue Suns soldiers marching down the bridge behind them.

As they approached, they heard words being exchanged by Vosque and Aria, and Marcus could overhear Vosque's response; the man's voice was croaky and slimy, like that of a man you knew you couldn't trust, "-that's the condition."

"We all have our little delusions," Aria spat, Marcus easily recognizing the asari's harsh tone and equally harsh words, "But if you seriously fucking think I'm crawling into bed with you just so I can guarantee your support, you can seriously go throw yourself out an airlock. I'll get your support, with you alive, or not."

_Sounds just like Aria._

As he moved around the corner, he came within view of the argument. On the left was a squad of Blue Suns soldiers, all holding assault rifles and shotguns, while one held a grenade launcher. Turians, humans, batarians. Before them was a man in Blue Suns armor, with no helmet, and his SMG holstered on his hip; his scalp was shaved and bald, and he had hazel green eyes, with a crooked smile that just oozed perversion. The man made him sick to look at, and Marcus knew upon looking that _he _was Darner Vosque.

Aria stood on the other side, still wearing her customary white battle jacket, black leggings and anyone would recognize her heavily tattooed face from a smile; her glare so menacing, it could melt steel. Around her stood her bodyguards; he recognized Bray, but the others were unknown to him, and behind her were her numerous, unmarked mercenary gang members. And they seemed fewer in number.

Vosque chuckled, shaking his head, "Trust me, you'll want me alive; Massani will soon be dead, and the Suns will be mine once more. They'll follow my command unconditionally, especially with the promise of more credits. And with your recent failure to keep Omega in your grip, I don't think they'll be very inclined to follow you. You need me, and that disgusts you, I understand that. But I also love it. You'll bed me, hell, you'll fuck me, if it gains my support. Is that not why you're here, begging me? Why, otherwise, would the great and oh so fearsome Aria T'Loak, be begging me here, in the middle of the Citadel?"

_"...failure to keep Omega in your grip..." Okay, now that's definitely peaked my interest. But what does he mean by that? How the hell did she lose Omega? She basically had an iron grip on that station. _

Aria's response, as could be expected, was less polite, "I swear, if you stare at my tits _one more time_, I'm going to have to fucking kill you. I will not fuck you, I will not bed you, and I sure as hell won't even suffer your breath on my face. Join me, or I'll find somebody to replace you."

A loud chuckle sounded, and all three of them, yes, including Marcus, whorled around to watch Zaeed casually walk down the steps casually, rifle before him and a haunty smile on his face, "Funny, that last sentence was the same thing I said to Vosque before he decided to go goddam AWOL on me. And now, I plan on doing just that."

Vosque looked at him with a widening grin, "Massani, I see you've finally come to speak with me personally? Good, now I get to kill you and take over."

"You?" Zaeed snorted, "I've got a few matches and some gasoline for what I'm going to do with your corpse, Vosque, so I'll be worried of what you do to me when I join you in hell," he turned to Aria, still smiling, "Sorry bitch, but a man's got to deliver payment, and this goddam cunt has alot of pay coming."

"Zaeed fucking Massani, you better back off!" Aria forewarned, "I will not let this meeting be ruined by you."

"And why's that?" he replied, waving a hand at Vosque, "Because you need my Suns? You need my fucking troops? All you had to do Aria was come to me, instead of going behind my back and negoitating with this cunt. Hell, I already promised the Suns to Shepard to fight his war, didn't I, Shepard?"

All eyes glided up to land on the figure currently moving down to join Zaeed, quickly joined by Jentha and Liara at his side. Arriving at Zaeed's side, his hands clasped behind his back as he replied, "That's correct, Zaeed. I need the Blue Suns to fight the Reapers, as I need you, Aria. And the Terminus Systems."

"Well Shepard, didn't expect to see you here," Aria stated with a scowl, "Just wish you weren't interrupting my fucking moment. I need Vosque."

"For what? The Suns? Weren't you listening to Zaeed?" he growled, taking a step further towards the asari crime lord, "He controls _four fifths _of the entire Blue Suns organization, while Vosque controls _one. _And Zaeed knows the stakes of what's going on; he knows you need them to fight the Reapers, as I do."

"I don't want them to fight the fucking Reapers!" she replied, "I want them so I can take my fucking station back from the Cerberus cunts who stole it from me!"

That right there stopped him in his tracks. _Cerberus took Omega from Aria? How the fuck did the Illusive Man manage that? And why the hell would they need Omega for? Just what is timmy up to..._

"As interesting as this is," Vosque murmured, "Its really time for me to take my leave. I've got a ship waiting in port; goodbye Aria. Hopefully we can do business again in the near-"

Marcus whorled on him with lightning speed, watching him try to take off in his skycar. His face became that of a horrifying monster, and noone would saw it behind his helmet would be able to withstand looking into those feral eyes for more than two seconds. _Oh no you fucking don't. _Lighting up with biotics, he whorled forward like the speed of light, a lance of dark energy charging out and striking the ascending skycar's engines, sending it out of control.

Vosque, with the door still open, was sent flying from the canopy as the skycar smashed into the ground, broke through the railing, and landed straight in the water, sinking to the bottom, smoke trailing for but a moment before dying. Vosque landed face first on the pavement, and he landed with a thud, crying out in pain as he likely broke his nose from the impact. Marcus marched over to him, and noone dared move as he tore his helmet off and threw it onto the ground, malicious intent in his eyes.

Vosque coughed and sputtered as Marcus descended upon him like an angry vulture. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking him up from the ground before slamming his face back into the ground, further harming his nose, and causing Vosque to howl in agony. He cried out for his troops to do something, but they simply did nothing and watched with horror as their commanding officer was beaten by the galaxy's hero.

Red blood coated the ground when Marcus picked him up again, and this time moved over and slammed his face into a wall, this time repeating it six times. Satisfied that enough of the wall had been coated red, he watched the man's fluttering eyes, he dropped him and looked down on him, shaking his head.

"You could have joined me and Zaeed, but you didn't. You chose to resist," Marcus hissed with anger, "You were offered a chance to stand beside the galaxy in a common goal. You chose to resist. Here is the price for your incompetence."

"No...please...I beg of you," he spat blood out from his mouth as his breathing became ragged, "...I'll fight for...you...have mercy..."

He got to say no more as Marcus lifted his foot and then let it descend with incredible velocity, landing on the man's neck and smashing it, crushing his trachea with one death stroke. The man coughed and gurgled, desperately trying to garner some oxygen, but was unable to find any, and was offered no mercy on that particular aspect. He choked for a few seconds, suffocating, and then suddenly it was over, and Vosque's body lay motionless before him, eyes gazing up at him emptily. Instead of closing them, Marcus rolled his body over with his foot and then moved to face the Blue Suns group before him, anger still burning in the pits of his eyes, which might as well have been hell itself.

"Take a good hard look at his body," he growled, "Because that's what I do to people who get in my way. I will not allow leniency to affect me anymore; you either stand by me, or get swept aside, but do _not __**get in my way. **_The Reapers will wipe out all life in the galaxy, including your own. Even now, our homeworlds are being besieged. Khar'Shan and Earth has fallen, and it won't be long before they target Sur'Kesh and Palaven," he addressed the turians in the group, "Don't ask for credits, because you won't get any. Don't demand glory, because there's none waiting for you. Don't fight for women or love or a chance to survive, cause the likelihood is, there won't be any when this is over," he crossed his arms, "Fight for the galaxy. Fight for the very continuity of your _species. _Because in the end; mercenary, thief, engineer, politician, it doesn't matter...we're all soldiers now. And you _will _do your duty to protect this galaxy. We fight or we die. Remember that. Now, anyone else like to follow Vosque's example?"

There was no answer. Only dead silence, a dozen pairs of eyes locked onto him with pure trepidation, and he nodded, turning back to his group. _I'm not asking for loyalty; no, I already have that from the squad that I care for. From the brother I watch over. From the wife I cherish. No, I need them to fear me enough to never question me. To show them that if they fear me now, they'll be pissing themselves over the Reapers. _

Marcus could see the narrowed eyes of Liara trying to plunge into the depths of mind, trying to find out what was wrong with him, but knew he was safer that she didn't know. Zaeed looked impressed, while Jentha looked utterly surprised at the brutal killing of the man. Aria looked unfazed, still annoyed over having the meeting interrupted, but one thing was certain; the whole room was silent.

He came to stand before Zaeed, "There you go Zaeed; Vosque is dead, and the Blue Suns are all yours again."

The man nodded, whistling, "You made it look fucking easy, Shepard. As you always do. You did a fine job of killing Vosque's ass, too. But you're right; now the Blue Suns are completely mine, I officially promise the whole goddam organization to you," he snapped a fake salute, and his face looked reluctant in the action, "Call me, or any one of my commanders, and they'll send troops wherever you need 'em. And when the final battle comes, you can expect us all to be there, in full force."

Marcus thanked him with a shake of his head, waving away the forced salute. His hand firmly gripped Zaeed's before shaking it and then pulling away again, "You sure you can't join the Normandy again, Zaeed? I need every able-bodied soldier I can get my hands on."

The man laughed, "That's exactly why I can't join. Someone has to lead the Suns, Shepard, and I ain't leaving it up to my fuckwit commanders; I need Jentha leading the Citadel division, and I certainly ain't leaving it up to my batarian commander, Marath. Hell, not even Palisus," he sighed, something that was odd for the mercenary, "No more goddam adventures for me, Shepard. The time for me being a big, goddam hero is over. Now I've got to play military general, and you need your troops organized and ready. But I will see you on the battlefield someday. We'll blow all those Reaper cunts to hell, and I can finally retire somewhere tropical. Maybe a big, fucking beach."

"You? Retire?" Marcus quipped, a smirk on his face as he shook his head, fury melting from his eyes, "That's something I'd like to see, Massani."

"There's always a day where you get too fucking old for people's shit," the merc quipped, "I think this war will finally be the end of the road for me. Or maybe I'll create my own mercenary organization; and then sit back and let my commanders lead it. Now that sounds like a goddam plan," he shook his head, giving Jentha a nod, "Well, I'd better make a run for it, Shepard. C-Sec's going to be all kinds of pissed to see all this fucking blood on their floor, and even more pissed to that cunt's mangled trachea. Plus, I've got to get my troops off this station and back to Zorya."

Just as Zaeed turned to leave, Jentha came to stand infront of him, holding out her hand for him to shake, "In the short time I've gotten to be alongside you, Shepard, its been an honor. I hope we meet again in the near future."

He nodded, smiling at the merc, "Indeed. I would hope so too, Jentha. Try not to get killed anytime soon."

She laughed, "In this line of work, its hard to do so, but I'll see what I can do. When this is all over, I'll buy you a drink. Cheerio." And with that, Jentha walked over to lead her new Blue Suns squad back to their Citadel base of operations, while Zaeed moved to lead his unneeded troops back to their ship, and off to Zorya. The brief reunion with the merc had been unpleasant, but at least it had been something.

_Haven't seen much of my old SR-2 crew since meeting Kaidan again. God I miss them. Not just Tali or Garrus; I miss all of them. Grunt's violent nature, Legion's logical reasoning, Samara's calm stature, Miranda's skeptical doubts, Kasumi's mischief, Jack's cussing...damn it, I miss all of it. Mordin's rapid speech about shit I don't understand, Joker's...well, jokes, EDI's attempts to grasp humor, Thane's cool demeanour, everything. What I'd do to have the whole crew together again. _He sighed, remembering the people he wanted at his side the most. The people he trusted without question. _I miss Wrex's boasting, Garrus' smartass remarks and Tali's...what don't I miss about her? Her touch, the look of her eyes, her warm hugs, her adorable possessiveness, her cute mannerisms, all of it. At least I have Liara. I can trust her. _He looked at the asari, not allowing his emotion to play out on his face. _But those days over, and now we're at war. __**Real**__ war._

He turned to look at Zaeed, who was in the process of leaving as he spoke loudly to the mercenary, causing him to halt and turn to face him, "Zaeed, we haven't had much of a chance to talk."

"Haven't had much time to talk. You know, killing Vosque and everything," the merc replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "Why?"

"Let's make time," he brought up his omni-tool, located Zaeed's contact on his contact list, and sent him a message specifying the time to meet him, "I'll meet you in the Dark Star Lounge; exchange some words over some drinks. I haven't seen any of my old crew except Kaidan and Liara, and the former is hospitalized. It'd be nice catchin' up; if you're not too busy."

"I've got goddam mercs to take back to Zorya," Zaeed persisted, before finally giving in, "Fine, Dark Star it is. We'll talk about being big fucking heroes, and how we'll be toasting our dead brethren over the pools of blood of our enemies."

Marcus grimaced, "That's...dramatic. And just a tad horrifying."

"If you're not used to it now, don't bother. I ain't no fuckin softie," the merc cursed turning to leave, "I'll see you later, Shepard."

Marcus gave him a curt nod, before turning to address Aria, "As for you Aria, I honestly don't know what to say apart from; what the fuck are you doing on the Citadel? I thought you hated this place."

"If I had a dozen nuclear devices, I'd have a few choice places I'd put them, yes," Aria growled, clenching her fists in and out, "But recent...events, have forced my hand. I now find myself living on this hellhole of a station, and I have to live with it until I can take mine back."

_'Hellhole of a station?' Funny, I said the same thing about Omega, Aria. When it comes to aesthetics, not to mention overall safety, the Citadel wins, everytime. _"Yes, I heard a few choice parts about that. Want to tell me just how you lost your space station to Cerberus? Omega's a pretty big station."

"Maybe I'll discuss it with you later. Right now, I've got to find a place to bunker down. I've heard Purgatory night club is similiar enough to Afterlife," sighing, she turned to her men, practically growling at them to get back to her skycar, "We'll talk later, Shepard. You'll know where to find me; if not, you'll just have to sit down and fucking wait."

Despite himself, he found himself smirking, "I'll see that I do. Afterall, you're currently on the top of my priority list in terms of making an army."

"And maybe I'll help you. Maybe I won't. Whatever gets my fucking station back," she hissed, waving a dismissive hand and turning around, her footsteps hard and brutal as she left, "I'll see you later, _Shepard._"

_What's with all the 'see you laters?' I swear, I'm part of the 'see you later' club at the moment, and the number of members are piling up. _He turned back to Liara, motioning to where they came from, "Come on, let's head back to the Normandy. I've got to get out of his armor and get to the Dark Star Lounge. And before you ask, no, I don't want an escort. I can look after myself."

"How did you-?" Liara began to ask, surprised.

"Because the murderer of Aratoht just happens to be on a space station that is currently housing thousands of batarian refugees," he rubbed the back of his neck with an armoured glove, inhaling and exhaling, "I'll bring my SMG if it makes you happy, but I can look after myself. That and my biotics will keep any fanatics from trying to kill me. I'll be fine."

"Its not angry batarians I'm worried about," she stated, coming to stand infront of him, holding out a hand on his chest, urging him to stop. As he did, his eyes met hers, and hers were full of steel conviction, "Its you. The way you killed Vosque was...brutal...and that's putting it mildly. What has gotten into you? And don't lecture me about 'the war' because that does not excuse how you treated that man! I know he was scum, but the Marcus Shepard I know would never kill a man so...barbarically!"

_Maybe I was being alittle overkill, but I needed to make a point. _His face cringed and twisted into a look of irritation, "Your right; that man _was _scum. He was also _in my way_ and I have made it abundantly clear that people who get in my way don't get fair treatment. Besides, I needed to make an example. I can't afford to have people love me anymore; if I need them to fear them to serve the purpose I need of them, then so be it, I'll do it. I'll sacrifice everything I have, including my morals, if it means winning this war."

_Including myself. _He shuddered at the thought, but he did not let Liara see it. She would only exploit his momentary weakness.

"So you brutally kill people who get in the way of your objectives?" she hissed, looking at him, before snorting, "What if one of us got in your way, did you think of that? What would Garrus think? Would you kill Tali if she-"

"_Enough_," his voice was steel, unwavering, his eyes pure frost as he met her eyes. He knew she had been building up to that, and he was almost at breaking point. The reason for that was because she was right. He wouldn't kill Tali if she got in his way; hell, he'd probably listen. And there's where the hypocrisy lay for him. He would kill anyone who got in his way, but his own squad? He couldn't even comprehend coming to lay harm on them. _And the fact I hate to admit is...it might just come to that. _"We're returning to the ship, Liara. This conversation is over."

He moved to leave, but she held firm, her eyes glaring into his, "We're going nowhere until we've settled this."

"I am giving you an _order,_" he growled, "Remove your hand, or I shall remove it myself, Liara."

The ice in his tone made her feel as if she was talking to a completely different person, and without a thought, she removed her hand, letting him pass by her. She hadn't even realized he was gone until he was on the bridge. Turning, she watched him cross the bridge before slowly moving to join him, shock and terror in her eyes.

_Just what has happened to Marcus Shepard?_

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1400 hours._

_Dark Star Lounge, Level 28, Zakera Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani._

"I was actually wondering if you'd show up," Zaeed murmured behind him as he sat on the stool before the counter, "Consider me goddam surprised."

Marcus gave a brief huff of acknowledgement, bringing the bottle of beer he held in his hand to his lips and taking a short sip, cringing at the bitter taste. Unimpressed with the taste, he placed it back on the counter, watching Zaeed take a seat next to him on a nearby stool. The turian bartender turned to him instantly, nodding at the mercenary. Zaeed gave his own brief nod, "Levo whiskey; and none of that cheap shit they give to fucking children. Give me the high-powered stuff; and don't bother with the glass. I'll take the whole bottle."

"That'll cost extra," the turian stated.

"I'm a fucking mercenary. I'm swimming in fucking money," the bounty hunter deadpanned, slamming a credit chit on the bench, "Now just get me my fucking bottle and piss off."

Marcus just shook his head, noting just how much Zaeed hadn't changed. "Glad to know you could come Zaeed," he finally spoke, his voice bitter from both previous events and the taste of cheap beer in his throat, "I thought you'd be too busy."

"Ha!" the man laughed, slapping his shoulder, "Says you; motherfucking Alliance captain, you are. Making alliances, filing paperwork, and running errands for 'superior' assholes. So don't give me the 'thought you were too goddam busy' gag, cause fuck you."

"Calm down old man," he teased, chuckling, "I meant no harm."

"You're a fucking cunt," he cursed, shooting the bartender an annoyed glare as he received his bottle. Getting the point, the turian quickly scampered away, pointedly trying to avoid the merc's eyes, "But a likable cunt, luckily for you."

"I'm flattered," he deadpanned in response, sighing heavily as he simply sat there, both men falling into silence; well, whatever silence you could have with headache-inducing music playing on the dance floor nearby; numerous asari, turians, humans and many other species taking to the dance floor, completely oblivious to the campaign of genocide going on around them, "But on the serious side Zaeed, its good to see you."

"Touche," the merc replied, taking a sip of his bottle of whiskey, giving a sigh of relief from the warm taste, "I'm surprised at how quickly you handled Vosque. Thought you might try to talk him out of it. You know, do that diplomatic shit you do."

The man snorted, shaking his head with distaste, "Ask the Reapers if diplomacy will sway them; maybe we can try and talk them to death. Talking is useful, but its an armada we need, not politicians. I can't afford to talk down people while thousands are dying on Earth and Khar'Shan and all over the galaxy; the time for action is now. Besides, Vosque wasn't going to listen, and persuasion wasn't working. I had to remove him to ensure I had the Blue Suns on the leash," he faced the merc, "They _are _on a leash, right? I can't have them disobeying orders, especially in battle."

The man shook his head, "That speech you gave really moved 'em; scared shitless. Swear a smelt piss. Nah, they're about as loyal as they can be; but likely more to their own lives then money, nowadays. Trust me, when you call them to fight some Reapers, they'll ask how many troops you want and how many bullets to bring. It was a goddam risk you took, though. How did you know they'd act like that?"

He sighed, meeting Zaeed's eyes instantly, "Fortune Favors the Bold," he stated, "This war isn't going to be won by tredding carefully; got to take some risks, right? Sacrifice a few planets to save a system, and a few systems for a cluster, and maybe a few clusters for the galaxy? Its a dangerous game we're playing, Zaeed, but I'm confident we'll win it. As for your other question, I didn't. Sometimes you've got to take a shot in the dark and hope you hit something. I hit something, and it just happened to be vital organ, so I feel quite lucky."

Silence fell upon them as they sat quietly for a few moments, sipping their drinks while the ear-ringing music played in the background, and they took in their surroundings. He heard Zaeed whistle from his right, and turned to see what he was looking at, rolling his eyes as he saw a few asari approaching them, their breasts so unnaturally big, they might as well have been pumped full of helium.

He turned to look away, asking the bartender for another round, before handing over his credit chit. The bartender extracted the credits necessary and handed it over just as the asari arrived before them, giggling, Zaeed obviously having called them over.

"Look at them fine pieces of ass and tits," Zaeed guffawed, facing Marcus with a grin, "And they seem eager. Want me to get one for ya?"

He rolled his eyes, not even facing the merc as he took another sip of his drink, "You know I'm not bloody interested."

"No, I didn't. Come on, you fucking gay, Shepard?"

"I'm married, you moron," he growled, turning to Zaeed, "Tali, remember? You can't have forgotten the wedding already. If so, your memory must be fading faster than you are. And even if I weren't, but I'm interested."

"Suit yourself," he grunted back, waving the women off, before turning to face Marcus again, "What the fuck got up your ass? Would it have been different if it had been a few quarians?"

"No," he growled back, finally facing Zaeed with a no-nonsense glare, "I. Am. Married. Full fucking stop. I love Tali, I only love Tali, and that will never fucking change. So drop the bloody subject, Zaeed."

"Whatever. You're such a fucking killjoy," with a heave of effort, the man twisted himself around on his stool, turning to face him again, changing topic as quickly as Marcus had suggested, "Any plans with Aria now that she's on the station?"

_Good, he changed the subject. I swear, if he had kept pushing for it, I might have socked him. I hate it when people do that. Is a 'happy marriage' that hard to comprehend? Is divorce __**really **__that common? Do I look like a fucking apprentice of adultery? _He nodded, gulping down his drink, "Yeah. For two reasons now; one, to find out what the hell she's doing on the Citadel, and two, to try and arrange an alliance. Once I have Aria's forces, and trust me, I will have them, and yours safely under my belt, I'm going to try and see if I can 'convince' the Eclipse and the Blood Pack to join our cause. Aria basically rules the Terminus, so once she joins us, we'll own all the mercenary companies in existence...in theory."

"Fucking fantastic. You'll have every mercenary in existence as the spine for your armada," he shook his head, scoffing, "I've seen worser foundations."

"Its the best we can do until the Normandy's retrofit is fully completed and we can head to Palaven. Council's not willing to listen, so I'm planning to just hit them individually. First the turians, then the salarians, then the asari. Once they join us, I'll move onto the other races, and then we'll see what we can do from there. Its alot to do, but I'm sure I can do it."

"You seem confident they'll join you," Zaeed stated, "You that confident?"

"No," he deadpanned, "But its the best I got. I'm short on allies, Zaeed. Too short."

"The fuck you mean?" the man replied bluntly, like he always seemed to do, the man simply not caring for personal feelings, "You've got that Liara chick."

"Yeah, I also had Kaidan, and now he's in hospital," he replied just as bluntly. _I've got to remember to check up on him later. Huerta Memorial was it? I'll check in before we leave for Palaven. I hope he's alright, _"And even with those two, its still too few. "No Grunt, No Mordin, No Legion, No Wrex, No Samara, No Garrus...hell, Zaeed, not even my own damn wife is there to support me. Like me, she's probably half-way across the galaxy in the ass-end of nowhere, trying to negoitate peace and play politics. I need my friends, Zaeed. I feel fucking useless without my squad. Without my _team._ Sure, there's James and Keeling, but I barely know them as it is, and they haven't gained my trust just yet, or even the right to be called my friends."

"Do you miss her?" It was a seemingly out of nowhere question, and Marcus took a second to contemplate it, before dumping his bottle on the counter and turning to face the merc.

"What?"

"You fucking deaf?" he replied, moving closer until he was almost in Marcus' face, the man's putrid breath giving evidence to his lack of personal hygiene, "Do you fucking miss her? You do or you don't."

"What kind of a question is that?" he asked rhetorically, but seeing Zaeed's unwavering response, waved his arms in the air, "Of course I fucking do! Jesus Zaeed, everytime I close my eyes all I see...is her. Everytime I sleep, everytime my thoughts wonder. I feel empty and lost without her at my side, and it hurts. Fucking hell, it hurts like a fucking bitch," he slammed his hand on the counter, startling the bartender with its verocity, "And where the fuck is she? I send her a message, and she doesn't even respond? What am I meant to think of that? Is she dead? Is she ignoring me? I don't know what to fucking think! And its killing me...not knowing! Because I can't do anything about it! I'd go out and search for her, but unfortunately for me, I've got a fucking _Reaper Invasion _and _the Galactic Apocalypse _to deal with! I don't know what to fucking do, and I feel useless because of it!" he entered his rant, relaxing, and sighing in defeat as he sagged against the counter, "I'm lost, Zaeed. I just...I just feel empty. Like I'm just following some preset goal, and when its over, I'll just stop working."

"Sounds like seperation anxiety," Zaeed stated, "Can't say it doesn't sound like romantic bullshit to me, but what you describe sounds alot like that, Shepard. You're fucking attached. You two own each other now, and no matter how much you goddam hate it, its going to be there till the day you fucking die. The need to have her at your side is probably just because of the battlefield comraderie you've forged in combat."

"I'm getting relationship advice from a bounty hunter," Marcus chuckled at that, shaking his head, "I must be desperate."

"But you know I'm goddam right," he stated back, and Marcus slowly nodded his head, staring blankly into the depths of his bottle, just wanting to drink his problems away. _No, I'm better than that. Besides, thoughts of her make me happy. Reminds me of better times...and the times we could have if we win this war...or if she's even alive...no, those are horrible thoughts; she's not dead. She's alive, and she's out there somewhere, and I will find her eventually. There'll be a time where I'll need to assemble the quarians, and then I can see her. Goddamn it, why does it hurt so much to think of myself in her arms, or her in mine? Why does it hurt so fucking much? Sometimes I hate being married._

"Yeah, you're right. Guess I just needed to vent, and you were the closest person to do it with," he met the man's eyes, "Thanks Zaeed. I know I'll see her again, I just...I need friends at my side, and I've never needed my wife more than I've needed her now."

"Then you'd better hurry up, get the Council races together, and go goddam find her before the war's over," the man took a long swig of his drink, "Or you or her won't be around to enjoy what time we might have left."

_...what time we might have left._

_Sounds like defeat. But I won't surrender. To surrender is to let the Reapers win._

And he'd rather castrate himself then let the Reapers succeed. _The cycle ends with us._

**"Aria was a tricky stick in the mud. Getting her to join us was easier than I thought, but quite...complex."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"How so?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Let's just say that what she wanted me to do to secure her allegiance benefitted both of us...heavily."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Sorry for the long wait! I've been playing alot of Total War recently, and I recently watched the four hour long movie Gods and Generals, so that's why I haven't been writing. That, coupled with homework, has kept me very busy. Next chapter is coming soon.**_

_**Also, most of you were wrong. Congrats gilmaxter and Myron22 for figuring out the obvious secret; the merc was Zaeed Massani. **_

_**SERIOUSLY? Wrex? Come on guys.**_

_**Chapter 6 comes soon, and will mostly be conversations. Along with some more of Shepard's crew bumping into him.**_

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	7. Chapter 6 Stop The Credit Flow

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER SIX:**

**STOP THE CREDIT FLOW**

_June 3, 2186_

_1415 hours._

_Main Entrance, Purgatory Night Club, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni._

Purgatory, what in an insightful place it was. It had the throbbing music of Afterlife, the purple undertone of the Dark Star, and the population of Flux, all in one. But by a glance down below, he knew Purgatory was much bigger than it seemed; levels upon levels of bars, dance floors and more bars littered the coliseum sized structure, and it seemed to cover half a kilometer of land in its total surface area. From what he could see, the dance floor was littered with mostly asari, with the occassional human, turian or salarian dancer. Numerous alliance officers were located at the entrance, and the bar was occupied by even more. All in all, it wasn't that bad of an establishment. If only the music didn't give him such a headache.

Upon entering, he saw that they stood on a large platform that was segregated from the main club by a bridge. On the other side you had three paths; one leading up a flight of stairs to the upper bar and dance floors, off to the left where the lower bar and dance floor was located, and off to the right, where a VIP Lounge was located; a long, L-shaped sofa circumventing the edge of what looked to be a pretty high drop.

Luckily enough for him, finding Aria wasn't all that difficult. She was drapped along said couch; sitted firmly on it with her right arm draped along its edge, looking like she owned the place, whilst commanding an air of ruthless authority. He could see a few C-Sec officers around her, along with an angry looking human female officer, whilst Aria surrounded herself with a few of her mercs; an asari, a salarian, and a batarian. Sitting next to her was another asari, although her interest in whatever situation they were in looked menial at first; if her bored and exasperated expression was any indication.

"Nice place," James pointed out, and both Liara's and Marcus' eyes landed on the bulky marine wearing his casual attire, grinning like an idiot at the scenery around him, "I liked the bar back in Vancouver, but this one takes it to a whole new level."

"Then enjoy," Marcus stated simply, gathering both of his squadmates' confused glances. He decided he needed to ratify that, "I need to talk with Aria, which, really, is only a one man job. You guys wanted to tag along, so I let you, but it doesn't mean I need you for this meeting. So go ahead James, Liara, go have some fun. This meeting might take awhile, considering it's Aria I'm talking with."

"Whatever you say loco," James replied, waving Liara over to the lower bar, "Come on, bluey! I'll get you a drink."

Neither of them moved, merely staring at James. After a second, the marine stopped, turned to face them, and met their confused expressions. He frowned, "What?"

"Loco? Bluey?" Liara and Marcus seemed to say in tandem, "What?"

"Oh...they're just nicknames I gave everybody," James clarified.

"But _loco? __**Bluey? **_What kind of nicknames are those?"

James gulped, squaring his shoulders as he seemed to look embarassed, "Well, for one, I call you loco because of all the crazy shit you do, and I call Liara bluey because...well..." he looked at the asari intently for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, because you're blue."

Liara gave an audible sigh before facepalming, while Marcus just snorted, turning to walk away. As he did, James swore he heard the captain mumble, 'I do crazy shit? _I _didn't crash a shuttle with perfectly good guns on it into an empty shuttle. _That's _crazy.' Before the marine could retort though, the captain was already across the bridge and heading right to the VIP Lounge. Shaking his head, he turned back to Liara, a stupid smirk on his face, "Well, _bluey, _want to get a drink?"

Her expression became a mock look of ice, "Call me that again, and I shall flay you alive. With my mind," seeing that James' was as horrified as she wanted him to be, she let a sudden, warm smile cross her face, dispelling the ice from her features and nodded to the bar, "And yes, _Vega, _I would like a drink. Care to escort me to the bar?"

Shocked at her sudden changes in emotion, he shook his head from his shock and nodded, waving a hand in the bar's general direction, "Yeah, yeah of course...Liara!"

She giggled, moving to walk past him. As she did, she shook her head, warmth in her eyes as she met James', "Its okay, I was only joking. You can continue to call me bluey if you wish James. Its actually kind of...endearing, oddly enough." With that, she was gone, moving off towards the bar. He merely gaped at her, unable to comprehend her sudden change in moods. With a sigh, he shook his head once more, something he found himself doing far too often, and moved to follow her, long strides closing the distance between them pretty quickly.

_Women. _

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1417 hours._

_VIP Lounge, Purgatory Night Club, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Mercenary Leader Aria T'Loak, Technician Ahz, Admiral Jarral, Lieutenant Bray, Mercenary Sata T'Loak._

"So you admit you and your thugs are here illegally?"

Marcus shook his head at the C-Sec officer's words, but merely stood at the edge of the lounge, arms crossed as he watched the exchange taking place. Aria sat on the couch, glaring daggers at the C-Sec officer before her, while also looking slightly amused. Bray looked to be on the point of drawing his weapon, while the salarian was too engaged in his omni-tool to care.

Aria let a ghost of a smile crease the edge of her lips, "Yes, and it only took C-Sec _three weeks _to figure that out."

"Excuse me?" The officer took offense, "Are you insulting...?"

"Yes, your fucking high-holiness got insulted. Get used to it, you aren't the friggin princess you think you are. So take your authority, and shove it up your fucking ass, and piss off," Aria growled, "I am swiftly done with C-Sec's padantics, and as fun as it is to see you reddening like a boiling teapot, I really do have war plans to pursue," she turned to face Marcus, their eyes' meeting, "Along with some words to exchange with someone vastly more important than you."

"I don't care who you are," the woman hissed back, clearly losing her temper as she took a step forward, "You're required to submit to processing like all the other refugees. So come with me immediately, or I'll use force."

"You clearly don't know who I am, do you bitch?" Aria hissed, not even bothering to stand, as if the effort shouldn't be wasted on the lowly officer before her, "I'm Aria fucking T'Loak, Ruler of the Terminus. I've killed mercenaries who were more powerful and intimidating then you. Touch me, or my daughter, or any one of my men, and I'll not only rip your arm off, I'll also sugar-coat it, wrap it up and give it back to you for fucking christmas and whatever you humans call that useless holiday of yours. So...fuck you, and fuck you. I'll wipe the floors with you, you fucking whore."

Marcus' widened at that. _Aria has a __**daughter? **__Well there is a surprise._

"I will not be insulted-"

"I just fucking did. So are you going to do something about it, or quack like a fucking duck?" the asari growled back, clearly having enough of this, "Actually, don't answer that, because I won't waste my time. Ahz," she ordered, and the salarians' attention was on her in an instant, "Get me Tevos."

The salarian named Ahz keyed his omni-tool, bringing up a contacts' list. When he found the one he was looking for, he brought it up and turned up the volume on his omni-tool. The voice that came through was easily recognizable to Marcus; it was that of the asari councilor, Tevos, "Aria, I did not expect to hear from you again so soon. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

_Hear from her again so soon? Aria and Tevos have met before? I'll have to ask the councilor about that; Mrs. The Terminus Systems Are Full Of Bad People. _

Aria didn't even acknowledge Tevos' existence as a person, merely glaring daggers at the female officer before her, talking to her like she wanted their conversation over with, "I'm being _asked_," she let herself linger on that word with loathing, "to submit to immigration processing."

"I see. Well, let's see," Tevos' words trailed off, before suddenly returning, seemingly after typing something into her terminal, "There. You have been automatically processed, recognized and given instant Citadel citizenship. Is there anything else?" Marcus couldn't help a snort at seeing the officer's face at Tevos' word, like her world had just crashed around her.

Aria saw it, and savoured every moment of it with a smile, "No, that'll be all, Tevos. Thank you." The last two words were clearly her dismissal.

"Any time," Tevos' words lingered as Ahz cut the connection, and lowered his omni-tool, deactivating it as he stood there.

Aria gave the officer a fake, apologetic smile laced with smug undertone as she met her eyes, "Are we done here? Cause I've got alot of fuckin work to do, and I don't need you panting over my shoulder. If you have any quarrels, feel free to complain, and I'll relay them to the Councilor for you."

The officer simply shook her head and signalled the rest to follow her out, and she silently fumed. She shoved past Marcus as he walked towards Aria, who had noticed the grin on his face. The others were less forceful, recognizing him and giving him a free path as he walked by.

As he came to stand infront of Aria, the asari smiled, "Enjoy the show, Shepard?"

He nodded, chuckling, "I guess there's one rule on the Citadel too, huh?"

She laughed at his reference, before the smile dropped away, accompanied by the sound, "It would seem so," she motioned for him to sit, and sit he did, on her left, decidingly liking the comfortability of the couch before him, "I hate this place. So...sickeningly uptight. So pathetically colorful. Repulsively...secure."

The one question he had wanted to ask now came to mind, and he nodded, "So why are you here?" He asked it rhetorically, and Aria knew it. She stood up, coming to stand at the edge of the ledge as she looked down, her voice a low growl, and full of pent up fury.

"Cerberus stole Omega from me," her fists clenched at her side, and she seemed to bristle with a momentary biotic flash of light, "The Illusive Man is now squarely at the top of my _shit list_."

_Welcome to the club. _Before he could speak, Aria turned to face him, continuing with her short rant, "He will _pay _for every _fucking second _I have spent in this bureaucratic hellhole."

Now he got to the meat of the topic, "How did Cerberus defeat you?"

She sighed, shaking her head as she walked back to the couch, sitting down as she spoke, "Deceit, distraction, and a big fuckin army. They attacked my station with Reaper husks called Adjutants, then pretended to aid me and deny all involvement. Their leader lured me away and imprisoned. By the time I escaped, they had already laid siege. I managed to force them to evacuate, but then they threatened to destroy the station if I did not surrender. So I fled...like a fucking retard, I fled, and now Cerberus holds Omega."

He sighed, leaning back, "If it were me, I'd be asking for help, getting that help, and then taking it back."

"I'm glad we think alike," she deadpanned, nodding with agreement, "I will take Omega back, but that, for the time being, is a distant goal I can only entertain. I need to be able to regroup and rally new forces before I can pull off such a thing. Plus, I'll need a big fucking fleet. But that's for later," she turned to look at him, "I know what you're here for, because you certainly did not come here to ask me why I got my fucking ass kicked off my damn station."

"You're right," Marcus stated, also leaning back, crossing his legs, "I need your troops, Aria. You know what's here; the Reapers. They're here, and you know what they want."

"To fuck our cold, dead corpses, if I remember correctly," the asari stated coldly and bluntly, nodding in acknowledgement, "And I know you need my mercs and myself to lead them of course, and I will gladly give them to you. As far as I see it, if you don't stop the Reapers, we're all fucked. Won't matter where I'm sitting. Its...in my interest...to help you."

Marcus wasn't convinced, perking his left eyebrow upwards, "Its also nothing like you to just agree that quickly without something in return, so I know there's a catch to all of this. Name it, and you'll have it." _I've stooped too low to do anything else now. I'll assassinate the Council and put you in charge if it means getting the troops I need. Besides, you'd probably do a better job than those fuckwits anyway. At least you know what's at stake._

She shook her head, grimacing, "You always were too inquisitive; but you're right. There is a catch, although it benefits the both of us, so its not that bad for you either," she twisted to face him, "My forces will be yours, along with all the ships I recruit, and the army I build. But first, I want the Eclipse and the Blood Pack. How does this benefit you, you ask? Well, what I get, you get, remember? Once the Eclipse and Blood Pack are devoted to me, they will be yours to command along with the rest of my forces. You'll get to kill three birds with one stone, won't you?"

He leaned back, whistling in impression. _I have to say, she read me like an open book. She knows I want the Eclipse and Blood Pack as well as the Blue Suns, and that securing her and her forces basically ensures I have full control of the Terminus Systems; but the only way I can fully utilize them is to retake Omega; but we'll cross that road when we get there. Try now, Aria is practically offering everything I currently need on a silver platter. Question is, should I take it?_

_Yes of course I should. She knows what I need is what the galaxy needs to win. And that I'm her best option in getting Omega back._

Licking his lips, he responded, "You and I both need the Eclipse and Blood Pack, so you just need to tell me what I need to do to get them under your wing."

"Well, for Eclipse, its quite simple," she stated, "I'm sure you've heard of the Eclipse leader and founder, Jona Sederis?"

His face took on a dark tone, position tightening at the name, "I've...met her before, actually. Undercover work." He remembered meeting the asari at Donovan Hock's party in his mansion last year when he was launching a heist with Kasumi to acquire Keiji's greybox. The woman definitely hadn't been pleasant, and he swore she had been bordering on being a psychopath, "What about her?"

"She was arrested last year on Bekenstein after Donovan Hock's party exploded...literally," she laughed at her joke, before shaking her head, facing him with a determined look in her eyes, "She was deported here by the Bekenstein police force, and is being held by C-Sec in the Presidium Commons. She's being trialled for execution, actually. Apparently the Council aren't as cowardly as we thought," she waved a dismissive hand, "Release her, and because she owes you, she'll follow you."

He widened his eyes at the proposition, "The Executor would never allow that. The woman is fucking insane, and I'm not letting her loose."

"Do you want your fucking army or not?" she hissed, glaring at him, "I don't care what you do with Sederis short of killing her, but just make sure she's in fighting shape, can lead, and is indebted to us. Besides, her being a psychopath might just make her all the better soldier."

_Or she could be another Vosque. _"Fine; I'll see what I can do to get the executor to release her. What about the Blood Pack?"

"Their leader is a krogan named Weyrloc Ferturk, and he's currently on the Citadel. Apparently he's looking to kill a turian general named Septimus Oraka, and is planning to, the fucking fool he is, assassinate the turian in the middle of the Zakera Ward. Kill him, and put a vorcha named Kreete in command; he's a vorcha, and therefore controlling him will be as easy as pulling the strings on a puppet. If you do that, you will have your mercenary companies under your command, as well as mine. Sound like a deal?"

"You're so full of shit," the asari next to Aria spoke finally, and all eyes landed on the asari, who lay there with her arms crossed.

Aria glared at her with vicious intent, "The fuck did you say, bitch?"

"Oh, you heard me. Don't play the dumb cunt," the daughter raged, standing up in fury, "Getting people to do your dirty work like you always do. And then ordering him to kill one person, and release another. Why don't you just do it your fucking self?"

"Listen here you fucking brat," Aria spat, "You'll sit your ass down right-"

"Oh, fuck you mother!" Sata yelled, practically spitting in the asari's face, "Dad told me you were a ruthless bitch, and I know it for certain. You always get people to do your dirty work for you, and now you don't have a space station, and you're just going to use Shepard to get it back. I'm almost insulted to have grown from your womb."

"Yeah, well fuck you!" Aria shouted back, waving at the doorway, "I don't care! You were a fucking accident, a mistake, something I will always regret! Your father was a fucking traitor and wasn't even there when I needed her; so why the fuck should I respect her child? Get out of my sight."

"Gladly," Sata cursed her, and stormed from the lounge, leaving in a frenzied storm of rage without even looking back at once. Marcus just sat there, glancing between the retreating Sata and Aria with rapidfire glances, shocked by the exchange he just saw. _No child deserves to be called an accident. That was just cruel, even for Aria. But who was the father? No, better not ask that. Aria looks pissed off enough as it is. Best leave it be. _Having decided to take his leave, he stood up and moved to back away.

"Thank you for the information Aria," he said, remaining his professional self, "I'm going to go to C-Sec Headquarters and hopefully get Sederis released. I want this over with."

Aria waved a dismissive hand, merely looking at the ground with a dejected look, "Yes, of course, whatever. Just make sure I get my mercs."

Turning away, his face became ice once more as he approached the bar, where James apparently was telling Liara a joke, as the asari could be seen laughing. His thoughts landed on Aria's parting words, and he grimaced slightly, knowing he could not do it, but he would get it another way. _Releasing Sederis is unacceptable, even as leader of the Eclipse. But that doesn't mean she won't have a replacement. _He nodded, as if agreeing with his own thoughts as he arrived at the bar, taking a seat next to James on his right. _I'll find her second-in-command and talk to him. If I can gain his loyalty, then I will release Sederis...but not to freedom. _

He cringed, knowing what he must do to prevent her escape. He knew Aria, and he needed to make sure a person like Sederis never saw freedom's light. _No, I will execute Sederis myself. She's a scumbag, a psycho, and wouldn't hesitate at murdering innocents or stabbing me or Aria in the back if she got the chance. No, I'll have her assassinated. But C-Sec will never buy into that, so I'll need to make Sederis believe she's been freed. I won't be able to take her out myself; people might believe I was behind it. So that means I need someone else to do it...to snipe her..._

_Zaeed. He hasn't yet left the Citadel. _

_Just one more favor, you old bastard. One more._

"Loco?" James' voice suddenly derailed his train of thought, forcing him to look at the marine, "You alright?"

He inhaled and exhaled, nodding as he did, "Yes; just going over Aria's words," he turned to Liara, "Liara, when we return to the Normandy, could you pull up the Eclipse database and get me the name of Jona Sederis' second-in-command? Aria wants me to release Sederis, but I can't risk unleashing her upon the public, so I need to take my chances with whoever is next on the chain."

She nodded, smiling, "Of course, Shepard. Whatever you need." She quickly brought up her omni-tool, and got to work. He didn't object, and merely nodded as the bartender gave him his drink, and he took a long sip.

"So what did you get from Aria, loco?" James asked, sipping his own drink, "Any useful intel we can use?"

Marcus merely shook his head.

"No James we don't," he declared, "None is needed."

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1435 hours._

_C-Sec Outpost, The Presidium Commons, Presidium, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

The Presidium Commons was crowded today, Marcus thought. Crowds of people went back and forth, going about their daily lives, while skycars whizzed by up ahead, and the artificial sun of the colossal space station beamed brightly up above. Marcus pushed on through them, deciding he would have time to enjoy the scenery later when he had the time. _I have no time. All that time must be devoted to finding ways to destroy the Reapers. Until Hackett relays anything concrete on this superweapon, we have to rely on old conventional firepower, and hopes it sustains us. And then hope to God that the superweapon is the hope we're looking for._

He wore his casual attire; the Alliance had forwarded him some credits, but he hadn't needed to spend it on clothes, because apparently Hackett had gone to the trouble of retrieving his old clothes. So instead he had bought back his Terminus Armor, along with a new assault rifle; a mattock heavy rifle, similiar in model to Garrus', but with a golden tint to it; and it was a much better choice than that shitty avenger, anyway. And it was good knowing he had his Terminus armor back.

But now he moved through the Presidium, unarmoured except for the clothing he wore, and the Locust SMG strapped to his side. He kept his N7 cap tilted so people wouldn't go peeking to see who he was, and moved forward with determination, pushing through the large crowds. Vidscreens nearby relayed news on the war effort, which was apparently looking pretty bleak. Images of Earth and Khar'Shan usually accompanied the reports, along with a reporter spouting 'dramatic dialogue' to accompany it. Hell, he might have been imagining it, but he swore he heard the word 'Reaper' mentioned.

He entered a long corridor, and then turned left onto the main Commons, and just in time as well, as he watched a C-Sec squad of armoured SWAT troopers move past him. Nodding to the commander of the unit, Marcus steadily moved past them and moved down the stairs and towards the C-Sec Outpost which, thankfully, was not that far away. He also knew that a certain mercenary's crosshairs were likely hovering over him at that current moment.

He had managed to catch Zaeed just as the bounty hunter was preparing to leave the Citadel, asking him for one last favor. The mercenary nodded, and was glad at the chance to eliminate some of his 'compeitition.' The man now rested on the other side of the Presidium, likely prone, his Incisor Sniper Rifle extended before him and aimed down at Shepard, ready to cover him. With a quick glance over at that 'other side,' Marcus had to whistle. The other side was at least a kilometer over the main lake that seperated the two sides of the Presidium ring itself. That was quite a distance.

Finally, Marcus reached the C-Sec outpost, finding its entrance to be guarded by two officers, both of them turians, and armoured from head to toe in medium combat armor, and wielding vindicator battle rifles. Upon moving inside, he gave both of them a brief nod, and then moved within its confines. The outpost itself wasn't very big; it was square in shape, and at least four meters long and wide. A couch sat on the left, along with another along the right wall, with a bench infront of it. In the upper left corner was a desk, where the supervisor obviously sat; datapads were stacked on his desk, with anothe turian C-Sec officer sitting behind it, and looking incredibly stressed by the amount of work dumped upon him. Vidscreens hung on the wall behind him; security cameras from inside the the numerous cells of the outpost.

Adjusting his cap, he moved over to the officer's desk, coming to brace against it, which gained the officer's attention. Looking up, he met the man's eyes and nodded, leaning back, "Ah, hello sir. How may I help you?"

"I'm here to release one of your prisoners," Marcus declared, motioning to the door at the back, which was currently locked with a red holopanel, "One of high importance."

"I don't believe you have the authorization to do that sir," the turian stated, narrowing his eyes at the human, "Only the Executor or the Commander on the Presidium can authorize a release of a prisoner, or one of the Councilors and/or one of their spectres."

"Then that sorts that, doesn't it?" Pulling up his omni-tool, bringing up his old credentials and practically shoving the display in the man's face, "I'm Spectre Marcus Shepard, and I'm here to authorize the release one of your prisoners."

The man looked at them, nodding, and Marcus mentally sighed in relief, glad the man hadn't decided to check if his credentials were up to date and he brought up his terminal display, looking back at Marcus as a prompt. The N7 nodded with an exhale, "Jona Sederis is her name."

The man's eyes widened for a second, and he seemed to freeze at the command, just looking at him. Marcus chuckled, somehow amused by the fear in his eyes. _Believe me, I know, _"I know she's insane, but she's of high priority to the Council, and I need her alive and able to lead to be of any use."

The man nodded slowly, before turning away and looking at his terminal, inputting the commands he was given. With a silent, unnoticed nod of consent, Marcus stood up and crossed his arms as he came to face the door. He heard the turian giving orders to one of the cell guards to release Sederis, but Marcus didn't hear the words; all he could think of was if what he was about to do was right. _You didn't hesitate with Vosque, so why hesitate now? Sederis is dangerous, and you can't seriously let her live just because you want the Eclipse. You've already secured the deal with Sayn; kill Sederis and the Eclipse are yours. Just be done with it. _Sayn was Sederis' second-in-command, and a salarian at that, but he wasn't without merit. He had been initially scared of the wrath Sederis would wreak on him if he did assume control, but at the assurance that she wouldn't be around to do anything like that, he took control immediately, saying that the Eclipse was Aria's to own, and in turn, his to command. He just had to rid the world of Sederis; and now he was here.

After a few moments, the door shot open, and out came a grinning Jona Sederis, followed by the poking avenger assault rifle of the C-Sec cell guard. Pulling out his SMG, he gave a nod to the officer, letting him know he had this. Nodding, the man saluted, one Marcus returned, before entering the cell block again, door locking behind him. Sederis was just as he remembered her; face pale, teeth milky white, and a look so amusingly feral it disgusted him to the core. If there was ever a definition of bloodthirsty psycho, it was seen in the face of the Eclipse founder and leader.

_Ha. Come to think about it, I think I've killed all the main mercenary company founders. Technically Zaeed killed Vido, but I did help catch him, and I killed Weyrloc Guld of the Blood Pack, and now I'm about to kill Sederis. I guess I could be called the 'founder-killer.' Actually, that sounds like a oxymoron. Oh, fuck it. Who cares anyway?_

The asari, dressed in casual attire, approached Marcus, swinging her hips from side to side. Her breasts were of ample size, and she was quite attractive by asari standards, but all he saw was a woman he was about to have sniped. _Who cares? She's a murderer. How many people has she brutally killed just for the promise of credits? You're doing the galaxy a favor. _

"Well hello there," Sederis swooned, laughing drunkenly, "Have we met before? I'm glad you released me, its about time I got out. I've alot to do; heads will roll. I don't like it when people...fuck with me."

"Yes we have," he practically hissed, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her out into the open Presidium to give Zaeed a clear shot. The mercenary wouldn't fire unless he got the signal, which Marcus needed to give before he could end Sederis' life. The asari growled at the contact and ripped free of his grip just as they got outside, causing him to spin to face her, ice in his look. She returned it in full, and her look was feral; like something off a rabid beast.

"Who the fuck are you to presume to touch me?" she hissed, throwing a hand at him in a dismissive gesture, "Do I need to add you to my list of people to fucking kill? Because I've barely known you, and I already want you dead."

_Believe me, you wouldn't last five seconds. And that's without Zaeed in the picture. _He could imagine his sights landing on Sederis' forehead at that moment, just waiting for the signal to shoot and splatter her brains along the pavement. He fixed Sederis with a look of frosty reckoning, not backing down from the bitch before him, "Threats won't be doing you any good, Sederis. I thought you'd be alittle more warm to the person who just busted your ass out of prison."

"Could have done it myself eventually," Sederis spat, moving towards the stairs, but stopping as she whorled to face him, "I don't need you, whoever the fuck you are. Seriously, who are you? Cause you look awfully fucking familiar."

"Like I said, someone you met, but don't know," he replied.

"What are you, fucking retarded? Just give me freakin answer before I reduce you to a pile of dog shit," her biotics bloomed around her body, and she stood forward into battle stance.

He rolled his eyes, bringing his own biotics to bear as he barely moved an inch, "Like I also said; threats won't do you any good. I'm a Spectre, not to mention top of my class in special forces, which means I could deck you in the space of a couple of seconds and not even think twice about it. You're a fucking merc, and therefore mean nothing to me. The only reason you're even out of jail is so I could deal with you personally."

"Spectre...?" she trailed off, eyes widening in a brief moment of shock, before it became ice again, her teeth clenced and bared, growling like an angry dog, "Well Commander Shepard, it is a pleasant surprise. What does the great commander what this lowly pit of scum?"

"Its _Captain _Shepard now," he hissed, "And your only use is the Eclipse. But I guess I don't really need you anymore."

"You need the Eclipse? I founded the Eclipse. I _own _them. I am their leader," Sederis spat at his feet, "You think I'm scared of you? You want my Eclipse? Well fuck you, because you aren't getting them. Actually, I'd grab your quarian slut and start running, because I'm going to hunt you down, and I will kill both of you. Noone fucks with me, some Spectre fuckwit or otherwise."

He ignored the insult and implied threat towards Tali, knowing they were moot and answered with steel, "I don't need your permission to take control of the Eclipse, Sederis. I already have control of them."

"Fuck you," Sederis growled, shoving her middle finger in his face before spatting in his face. She closed his eyes and mouth, using a hand to casually wipe away her saliva from his face and splash it on the ground. Many people had gathered around, watching the exchange quietly, and even the guards at the outpost had been roused, "You think because you released me that I'm going to just blindly pledge fealty to you? Well go fuck a varren, because that ain't happening. I will wreak just revenge for my imprisonment, and I will start with you."

"Who said I needed you to have the Eclipse?" he shook his head, wiping away the remains of her spit and casually wiping it on his sleeve, "Any dickhead can lead a bunch of tech-wannabes in yellow armor. Take your second-in-command, Sayn, for instance. He seems like a reasonable man, more rational than you for instance, and with him in command, he's assured me complete control of the Eclipse, and all on one guarantee."

"Sayn? Are you fucking serious?" She laughed, shaking her head, pointing a finger at him, "You're a good joker, Shepard. Sayn is a weak-willed toady; he'll never fuck with me, he knows better. Nice try," she grinned at him evilly.

He resisted the urge to grin back in equal measure, and stood firm, "You see, that's what Sayn was worried about. But when I said I'd take care of the problem, he seemed much more willing to help me. You see Sederis, he won't need to fuck with you, because you won't be around to fuck with."

Her eyes widened once more, but she forced them to narrow, her breathing becoming more menacing, "Are you...threatening me? What part of 'noone fucks with me' didn't you get? Fuck you! You aren't even armed!"

"You must be pretty blind," he pulled out his Hurricane SMG and levelled it at Sederis' face, shaking his head, "Its over Sederis. You know that; don't make this any harder than it has to be." _She'll knock my SMG aside with her biotics, but that's why Zaeed's here. Enough playing around; let's end this._

"I'll kill you Shepard!" She yelled out, lashing out with a biotic attack that knocked away his weapon wielding arm, just as he predicted and she began to charge forward, wreathed in biotic light, "I'll kill you, then I'll kill your fucking suit-rat, then-"

He turned to the other side of the Presidium and gave the thumbs up. Sederis simply kept charging, and he spared her one last glance.

The next second, her head exploded as a high-velocity round entered through the side of her head and exited out the other side, purple blood painting the ground as her momentum carried her forward and into the ground, biotics dying out as she died. He merely looked down at where her head tapped his right foot, purple blood collecting around her head, her face contorting from her raged expression to one of tranquility; a deathly peace.

People screamed at the sudden death, and the C-Sec officers quickly converged on him weapons raised. He gave another thumbs up in Zaeed's general to confirm a good kill and then turned to walk away, only to run into the barrel of a battle rifle.

"That's far enough," the officer declared, "On your knees, hands behind your head, now. You're under arrest."

"I'm a Council Spectre. As of now, I'm advising you move out of the way, before you end up like her," he ordered, not backing down, "Besides, you really going to defend her? She was on death row anyway; she was insane, and wasn't going to risk letting her continue to live. I did what was necessary, got me? And if you don't, that's too bad. Move, before I do something I seriously regret."

The man fingered his trigger for a second before rapidly lowering his weapon and stepping aside, snapping a salute, "Of course, Spectre. Sorry to bother you Spectre."

He nodded, motioning to Sederis' dead body behind him, "Better contact the morgue and have them collect her body; don't want to just leave it lying there. Isn't good for public consumption."

The man merely nodded as Marcus pushed past him and left. Just as he reached the foot of the stairs, his omni-tool began to beep with a call from Zaeed. Accepting the call, he watched as his scarred face popped up on his omni-tool vidscreen, the man shaking his head, "Beautiful goddam kill, Shepard. That Sederis bitch was fuckin crazy; glad you took her down. Going to make relations with those fucking Eclipse pussies much more enlightening."

He nodded, shaking his head grimly, "It was necessary, Zaeed. Sederis really was crazy, and needed or not, I couldn't leave her in that cell to only escape later. I dealt with a potential problem, and I feel better for it. Have you informed Sayn yet?"

"Message just got sent. I sent a similiar one to Aria in turn," the mercenary growled, "If that's all Shepard, I really must get the fuck off this station and back to Zorya. There's only so much goddam trust I can put in one turian."

Despite the situation, he couldn't help but laugh, nodding with a falling smile, "Thanks Zaeed. I'm going to go deal with the Blood Pack leader."

"Sure you can handle him yourself?"

"I've handled worse. I can deal with one krogan," Marcus replied bitterly, making it to the elevator and hitting the icon for Docking Bay D24's Cargo Center, which had been retrofitted into a makeshift refugee camp. Apparently that's where Weyrloc Ferturk would be, along with his Blood Pack cronies and Aria's puppet leader, Kreete.

"Whatever you say, you smug bastard," the bounty hunter replied, "See you around, Shepard. Happy Reaper killin."

He nodded, and cut the connection. Seeing he was about to reach the refugee camp, he sighed inwardly, realizing just how stupid it must seem taking on a heavily-armoured Blood Pack krogan in just casual clothes and with only a SMG as armament. But if he returned to the Normandy, Liara, James or Keeling, or all three, would insist on coming with him, and he was having none of it. He had already turned his crew into trained killers, he wasn't turning them into assassins either.

No, that was his damnation to walk.

**{Loading...}**

_June 3, 2186_

_1456 hours._

_Docking Bay D24 Refugee Center, Shalta Docks, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

His ears were almost immediately assaulted by noise when the elevator doors slid open, omitting in the harsh sounds. He walked down the hall and moved towards the C-Sec Security Checkpoint that was in place; a blue field, the same as that on the Normandy, blocked his entrance, and on his left was a desk that was bare all except for the terminal resting ontop of it, and the human standing behind it. Seeing Marcus standing there, he looked up, nodding, "State name and identification, please."

He held up his captain's credentials this time, knowing they'd check up to see this time if his spectre ID was up to date. The human saw this and typed it into his terminal, nodding as he did, before turning to look at him once more, motioning towards the bay, "You've been checked through. You may proceed, Captain Shepard."

Marcus nodded and without a second glance moved through the detector, which immediately set it off. Before the man could even speak, Marcus held up his hand to stall him, pulling out the SMG he had strapped to his hip. The man gave him a questioning brow, to which he merely shrugged, "Gotta have protection everywhere I go."

The man nodded, motioning for him to go through, "You're military, so I guess its allowed. Have a good day, sir."

Marcus turned and walked through the field, silently berating the man for his poor choice of words. _He literally just said as I walk into a __**refugee **__camp. How insensitive and ignorant can you be? _Despite the man's words, Marcus pressed on, determined to get this over with. _Of all the things I could be doing, I didn't imagine chasing people around the Citadel was one of them. How many people are dying while I'm killing three people? _He gulped, shaking those dangerous thoughts from mind, entering the main refugee camp.

Overcrowded to the point of chaos, is how he would best describe it at the moment. The bay was lined with C-Sec officers on patrol, trying to keep the peace. Observation windows on the walls to the left allowed anyone a view of the many ships that were almost constantly flowing into the docks, likely packed with refugees fleeing the Reapers as their relentless harvest.

As he looked around the bay, he saw four main sections of camp; each one was full of containers that had been turned into makeshift homes. Most of the refugees milling about were batarians, some soldiers while others were civilians, but at least a quarter of them were humans as well. He could hear the sounds of children crying, of mothers weeping for their lost loved ones, and fathers desperately trying to get extra rations and living space for their families. Soldiers argued with officers for weapons, while the voices of ship's captains asked for permission to dock. He heard the occassional scream of agony or sorrow, and sometimes even heard the shouts of officers breaking up fights. No, chaos best described what he was looking at.

And as his eyes scanned the room, he saw them. Six Blood Pack mercenaries at the back of the camp, obviously conspiring with one another; four vorcha, two krogan, one of them wearing the exceptionally large armor of the leader; their insignia of a battered skull extremely hard to miss. They seemed to be unarmed; clearly their weapons had been confiscated. He straightened his posture and then pulled his shirt over his SMG, hiding it, as he approached the lone group. He passed numerous refugees and police officers, and noticed the hopelessness in their features, the fear, and some...the anger and sorrow. Some faces were of dried tears, others of fresh ones.

Like a cold machine, he ignored them, offering no comfort as he moved towards his target. _I cannot show weakness. If the Hero of the Citadel and Destroyer of the Collectors shows fear and sorrow, then what hope is there left for galactic morale? None. I'm the last strong one left. That, and my inconquerable squad. _So he continued to move, going through the movements without hesitation, and eventually found himself behind the krogan leader.

One vorcha noticed him immediately and pointed a sharpened talon at him, screeching in the squeaky and harsh growling noise that vorcha made when they spoke, "Ah! Human behind you!"

The krogan stopped and turned to face Marcus, easily towering over him. Even as the krogan began to speak to him, Marcus was already analyzing the krogan's entire body; weak points, strength, and where to hit to take him out. Knowing that most of his body weight lay on his legs, he prepped his omni-blade as the krogan spoke, "Human? What the hell do you want? Unless you're here to pay us for something, I've got things to do. Piss off."

His hands clasped behind his back, where his omni-blade silently came to life with a low whoosh of energy and the silent crackling of fiery heat, "Nothing, just here to assume control of the Blood Pack that's all. Do you know how I can do that?"

The krogan laughed, shaking his head as he eyed the human with a glare of intensity, "I'm the leader here, human. Which means I own the Blood Pack."

"Incorrect," he stated, pointing a finger at the vorcha he knew was Kreete from Aria's dossier on him; he was recognized by the red choker around his neck, "Kreete is. You've been dismissed."

"What? How-"

Marcus was as quick as lightning, and was already moving in a flash. He ducked down low, his omni-blade slamming into the krogan's left kneecap and then dragged upwards with a sizzling pop. The krogan roared in a mix of pain and anger as he fell onto the one knee; without even thinking, Marcus leapt behind him and raked his blade across the back of the same knee, which crippled the krogan for good as he fell face forward onto his belly, howling. The other mercs looked ready to attack, but something caused them to hold back, and merely watched as Marcus came to stand facing the krogan's wreathing body, SMG folding out into his hands.

The krogan quickly rolled onto his back, meeting the captain's eyes with hatred glowing in their pits, "Who the fuck do you think you are? I-will destroy you. I am Ferturk, of Clan Weyrloc, Leader of the Blood Pack!"

"And I'm Captain Shepard. Or, to you, _Commander _Shepard," he growled, Marcus' tone hinting at danger to all who heard it, "And I just happen to need your troops for this war, Ferturk. Which means you need to be removed from the picture."

"Men!" the krogan growled, turning to the five mercs standing beside him, "Kill this wretched human, don't just stand there! I want him dead, right now! Whoever gets the kill gets a promotion!"

Marcus stopped his approach, raising his SMG to aim at the krogan's face as he met their eyes with cold ferocity, "I wouldn't even bother doing that. Remember Weyrloc Guld, and how he...met a gruesome end?"

They slowly nodded, and there was glint in his eye, "That was me. I've killed many of your mercenaries in the past, and most of them decided to get in my way. I killed them, and I will kill you if you so much as move an inch to help him."

"You're just a human," the leader on the ground coughed, he turned to his band, shaking his head with a snarl, "Are you varren to be scared of a fucking human?" he turned to the remaining able krogan in the group, "Kill him! Show him the strength of the krogan."

"I've killed many of your kind in the past as well," Marcus declared, meeting the second krogan's eyes solely, "I killed Garm, leader of the Blood Pack on Omega. And Guld. And many more. Heard of Urdnot Wrex? He once served under my command, and has taught me many and more about krogan hand-to-hand, not to mention all the weak spots," he nodded to the leader's evicerated knee, "Like so."

This caused the krogan to back away, and he continued his speech, speaking to all of them, "I'm forming an army of unimaginable size to destroy the Reapers, and the Blood Pack will be part of that army, whether you like it or not," his eyes met Kreete's, "And Aria has chosen you to lead them. Ferturk could not be trusted, and you were appointed. You will serve Aria, and me, and answer our call when we see fit. Do you understand, Kreete? I want the Blood Pack. Are they mine? Are they Aria's?"

"Both!" the vorcha hissed happily, nodding his head like an ecstatic child with razor-sharp canine teeth, "Aria own Blood Pack! Shepard own Blood Pack! You both own it! Yes yes! All yours! Will serve! Yes yes! Can count on me!"

_Good. That secures the Blood Pack. _"Then go speak to her yourself; give her the Blood Pack and proclaim your loyalty in person. You will find her in the Purgatory night club; it is on the Presidium. Now go; and be ready for battle when I call for it. Go."

Kreete nodded, and hissed at his new men to follow. The three other vorcha did so without hesitation and, before he knew it, the krogan was following as well, which caused Ferturk's eyes to widen in shock as he watched his mercs file away into the crowd, disappearing. As he watched, crowd members began to observe and before he knew it, everyone was watching. He ignored the eyes boring into his skull and faced Ferturk, who had now rolled back to face him, a new emotion his eyes; fear.

"Wa-wait! C-c-can't we-we figure this out?" he begged holding out a hand to forestall him; he must have looked menacing with just an SMG in one hand and sizzling omni-blade in the other, "I've heard the stories about you!" the blade edged nearer, "You're merciful! Mercy! Fucking mercy! Please! I'll give you the Blood Pack! I'll be of more use than Kreete; he's a fucking vorcha! Dumb as a rock!"

"All men sing the same tune when faced with death," Marcus stated, crouching next to the krogan so they were close enough to hear each other, "And that's exactly why Kreete's in control; we didn't recruit him for his wits; we did it because he's easy to manipulate; he's merely a puppet to make controlling your Blood Pack easier. You? You would stab us in the back they first chance you got, and no less or more. No, you must be ended. Mercy is for the deserving. For the worthy. You are despicable; making money off of the misery of others. If it weren't for needing your organization, I would burn it to the ground. But I do; but you? I don't need you. I have Kreete. A puppet is better than one wielding a knife, but with a different puppeteer."

He moved to open the man's throat, but the krogan was too desperate; in a last ditch attempt to protect his pathetic life, the krogan lashed out and grabbed his omni-blade arm, trying to snap it. Predicting the action, Marcus charged his biotics and let forth a warp field, which slammed into the krogan's gut. The attack atomized his heavy armor and stunned the krogan from its close-proximity, allowing him to bring up his SMG, ram the barrel into the krogan's mouth, and then pull the trigger until the spent clip was spat out.

With Ferturk dead and lying in a growing pool of orange blood, Marcus came to stand, aware of the eyes currently focused on him. With an inhale and exhale, he looked up, and met them, watching their accusing gazes. Some looked at him with disgust, while others, largely the batarians, gave him murderous gazes. He ignored all of them though as the crowd parted and three C-Sec officers; a female turian leading two salarians, suddenly appeared, rifles raised at him. They looked at the krogan however, and noticed the red armor, and quickly lowered their weapons, the female turian fixing him with narrowed eyes, "Self-defense or initiator?"

"Initiator," she looked about ready to raise her rifle again when he continued, "But only because I needed the Blood Pack for my war against the Reapers, and he refused to cooperate. I had to...sort him out."

Sighing, she lowered her weapon, nodding, "Very well. Please step away from the corpse."

He did so without argument, holstering his SMG and slipping his shirt and jumper over it as both salarians crouched beside the body, the turian placing her hands on her hips as she looked at the body. Shaking her head, she faced her salarian subordinate, nodding, "Contact the morgue; tell 'em we've got a dead krogan mercenary down here that needs extraction. And clean the damn thing up and cover it; we don't need kids seeing this."

With a nod of affirmation, the officer turned towards him, all professionalism, "ID please."

He nodded, pulling up his omni-tool and showing her his credentials. Her eyes widened as she saw it and she quickly snapped a salute, obviously awed by his presence, "Comman-Captain Shepard! I did not realize it was you, sir. I wouldn't have held you up like this. We were told you would be on the Citadel, but we didn't think you'd be down here. My apologies."

He held up a hand to forestall her, shaking his head, "No need to apologize, officer. You were only doing your job. And I hate to just leave like this, but I really do have things I need to do. Its important."

"Right back at you sir," she smiled a turian grin, "No need to apologize; I'll let you go." With that, she turned and left, and he did the same, moving through the crowd and ignoring the looks they gave him before dispersing. With the Blood Pack, along with the Eclipse and Blue Suns, firmly under Aria's wing and his, and the entire Terminus Systems under his belt, he now had a foundation for his strike force. And now that he had nothing else to do while the Normandy's retrofit was being completed, he decided he would visit Kaidan in the hospital; see how he was going. He hoped the marine would be alright.

Suddenly, a familiar voice shouting out at him stalled his movement, and he stopped, turning to the source.

"Shepard, stop! Shepard!"

As he turned to the origin of the voice, he felt an entire body slam into him, wrapping its arms around his neck and his sight covered as long, fluffy ginger hair filled his face. He felt a pair of medium-sized breasts press against his chest as well, and the woman's hair confirmed she was human. If the color of said hair didn't confirm who she was, he didn't know what did.

She pulled away, a shining smile of relief on her face as she pulled away, "Shepard! Its so good to see you again."

"Kelly," he greeted back with an equally warm smile, "I can say the same. I didn't think I'd see you here." Yeoman, or who had been his yeoman, Kelly Chambers no longer wore the Cerberus uniform she had on the old ship, or the new clothes they had gotten after parting ways with said organization. She wore a simple civilian garb, much like that of the colonists he met on Feros three years ago, and simple blue jeans. Her body was curvaceous, and her face showed just how attractive she was. But the red rings under her eyes showed that the woman had not gotten much sleep, and he knew why.

She smiled back, laughing slightly, "Neither did I. I guess, when I boarded that shuttle, I just didn't know where to go. So when Kasumi and Garrus got off, I got off with them, and found a shuttle for the Citadel. I was helping out for C-Sec, but then the news reports of Earth started coming in...and I thought I could help the refugees..." her cheery smile was suddenly replaced by one of sadness as she cupped her mouth, looking at him with horror, "Oh my god, Earth! I saw the reports and the images! I was wandering if you had-"

He came in and began rubbing her back, offering calming words, "Its okay, Kelly. I got out okay, but not everyone did. We lost alot of good people, and Anderson voted to stay behind to lead the resistance movement. Many people are still dying as we speak, but I know I'll stop them. I have to."

She nodded, wiping away the few tears that escaped her eyes, "I know you will. In the end, I believe the entire Normandy crew really did, and still does, believe you can stop the Reapers. I miss the crew, the ship...guess I got attached. A bit of seperation anxiety."

He grinned, stroking his beard, "Looks like you're in need of a shrink."

She laughed, shaking her head, "I do not appreciate being called a 'shrink', Shepard. Its not very polite," with a sigh, she shook her head, holding her head. He frowned with concern, gripping her shoulder with his but she shook him off, shaking her head as she did, "Its nothing, just a minor headache. Been getting alot of them lately; comes with being in a noisy place. I've gotten some tablets from Doctor Michel at Huerta; she's a really nice person. Apparently she also knows you. Something about rescuing her," she raised an eyebrow inquisitively, smiling, "Anything I should know about, Commander?"

"Actually, its Captain now," he corrected, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sort of a unofficial battlefield promotion. Anderson...gave it to me when I was leaving Earth. It was basically his last words to me."

"I see," solemnity filled the scene upon his final words, but Kelly quickly shook her head, crossing her arms as she narrowed her eyes at him, "But do not avoid the question; who is Doctor Michel, and how do you know her?"

"You could say she's how I met my lovely wife," he grinned, the thought of her not bringing any melancholy and loneliness this time, "She's also how Garrus came to join my team. It was during our time on the Citadel, just before the official outbreak of the Eden Prime War; we were trying to gather information to prove Saren was a traitor, and it just so happened that Garrus may have been on to something. We went to Chora's Den, and that's how I met both Garrus and Wrex. They joined us and we stormed Michel's Clinic in the Wards, and rescued her from some of Fist's thugs. And that's how we met."

"Very dramatic," she giggled, shaking her head, which caused another smirk to arrive from Marcus' lips, "But she commanded a clinic three years ago? She really came a long way."

"What do you mean?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"She's the hospital administrator for Huerta Memorial now," she stated with praise, "She does a really good job."

His eyes widened at this revelation, laughing half-heartedly before pinching his nose, "Well...well damn. Yeah, she certainly has come a long way. I think all of us have, really. Except you," he teased, poking at her shoulder, "You're just a psyche. What's the saying? Once a shrink, always a shrink."

"Actually, its 'once a marine, always a marine,' but I'll allow you your simple interpretation," she waved with a mock hand of dismissal, smiling all the way.

"Very well, Mrs. Philosophy Professor," he grinned back, sighing, "This is good, Kelly. I don't think I've really smiled all that much since leaving Earth. Poor Liara's had to put up with my crap; you know, stone-faced asshole and ruthless bastard I am."

She stopped laughing, her face becoming neutral as she nodded, "I know that feeling; although I'm glad I wasn't there. I don't think I could bare to see the birth place of my species...just..." she shook the thoughts from her head, "Let's not think about the war. We haven't talked in a while."

"Kelly," he began, knowing he needed to warn her about something, and he only just remembered what that was, "You need to know something. Cerberus...the Illusive Man...they've gone insane. It isn't safe around here anymore; anywhere, really. They attacked my team on Mars and...well, they've gotten an upgrade. The Illusive Man is using Reaper tech to turn his soldier into monsters, and we...I...may think he's...indoctrinated." _There's no other explanation for why he could want to change his plans so suddenly. He always has been too obsessed with the Reapers...now I'm certain its indoctrination. _

Kelly looked at him, nodding her head slightly, "I knew this would happen at some point...the Illusive Man's insanity, I mean. I just..."

"You need to stay safe. You need to hide," he licked his lips, bracing himself for his next deliverance of words, "Kelly, I'm offering a chance for you to return to the Normandy crew. To help me."

Her eyes seemed to widen in terror, and she seemed to go insane in that instant, switching from laughing to sobbing, back to laughing again. Finally, she began to hold herself, shaking her head, "I...no...no no no I can't go back there. I...feel safe here. I feel _safer _here."

He sighed, seeing she was she suffering from the events of the Collector abduction of the Normandy crew that had happened months before. She had never recovered from the attack, and had complained of horrific nightmares, waking up in cold sweats, and sometimes screaming loud enough for the whole ship to hear. Kelly Chambers had never been the same.

But he couldn't let that fear of stepping onto the Normandy scare her away from her duty. The truth is, he needed Kelly. He needed her to serve on his ship. He valued her as a member of his crew, and needed her to keep the morale of his crew up; to make sure they were alright. Her gripped her shoulder, and turned her to face him, words soft and sympathetic, "Look, I know you still have nightmares of what happened. I know it still haunts you. I know how you feel, because the same happened to me after Elysium. After Torfan. But worst of all, after Akuze. Now, of course, I had noone there to comfort me during those times. I had constant nightmares of Akuze after the event, but it did get better. But I had _noone,_" his eyes became piercing and full of determination, confidence, "Trust me when I say there is nowhere safer in this galaxy than the Normandy. The Collectors caught us offguard last time, but did it happen again? No. EDI is better than that. And unlike me, you have _friends _who are there for you. Joker's not the most comforting guy, and EDI's certainly no comfort at all, but I'll be there if you need a shoulder to cry on, and I'm sure if anyone messes with ya, Garrus will beat him up for ya," _if he were here, _"And Liara's not the most social person, but she's grown, and she's there for you."

"I feel safer on the Citadel Shepard," she said, pushing him away, and shaking her head, the fear palpable in her eyes, but he could see the temptation, the want she kept hidden, "I do. The crowds are calming, and I know the Citadel is the safest place there is."

"Wrong Kelly. You know damn well this place is as about as safe as Earth is," he stated strongly, "The geth laid the Citadel under siege with Sovereign three years ago. And that was one Reaper. With the entire Reaper fleet baring down on us, do you really think the Citadel will be safe? Especially when it itself is Reaper technology, and bends to their will, not ours? Trust me, the Normandy is much safer. We miss you Kelly. Everyone does. I...I need friends on my crew," he added the last bit as almost like a plea, "I'm fresh out of friends to talk to, Kelly. Garrus is on Palaven somewhere, my wife won't answer my messages, I met Zaeed briefly, Liara's been trying to be my personal shrink, and Kaidan's hospitalized. The new crew members are nice, but are they my family? No. The Normandy SR-2's crew was family, not the _SSV _Normandy SR-2's. If you won't do it for your safety Kelly, then do it for us. Do it for me. Because the Normandy is feeling very lonely without some friends, Kelly."

There was a long, drawn out silence that seemed to last for hours on end, when in fact, it only lasted a couple of moments. She gazed at him, using her abilites in psychology to measure his posture and calculate lies from truth, and she saw the truth in what he said; the slouch of his posture indicating exhaustion, eyes giving away loneliness. Those eyes disturbed her the most. How blank and pleading they were. The Hero of the Citadel, Lion of Elysium, Butcher of Torfan, Survivor of Akuze, Destroyer of the Collectors, Geth Slayer and Bane of the Reapers was missing one thing in his otherwise invincible statute and that was that he wanted companionship. The man was lonely, and not even his best friends, family or even his own wife were there to support him.

She felt sorry for him.

How could she say no?

"You've got me Shepard," she gave a sigh of defeat, her posture slacking, "Where's the Normandy docked? I'll grab my things, say goodbye." She looked terrified at the prospect of returning to her 'torment,' but she knew she could see it through.

He patted her shoulder in appreciation, "Thank you, Kelly. You're doing the right thing. Joker and EDI will be thrilled to know your back. The Normandy is docked in Docking Bay D24; literally right above us," he pointed at the Normandy hovering outside, smiling as he turned back to her, "Just ask Samantha Traynor, she'll be at your old station, and she'll get you some quarters."

A sudden look of mischief crossed her features, and for a moment, he saw a smile as she began to walk away, a look of mock evil, "At my old station, did you say? Well that's just unacceptable..."

"Play nice," he stated with mock harshness, laughing, "We'll talk later, Kelly. And...its good to have you back."

"Touche," she returned, and like that, she was gone. Marcus shrugged, squaring out his shoulders before turning around and beginning to head back to the elevator, a smile on his face as he did. _I've met a friend and now she's rejoining the crew; maybe this day isn't so shitty afterall. Speaking of old friends...better see if my old crew made it off of Earth or Arcturus...see if they're safe..._

Just as he prepared to hit the checkpoint, another familiar, ableit annoying voice, ruined his day for him almost instantly. He groaned as he turned to deal with the perpetrator.

"Join Cerberus! If its good enough for Shepard, then its good enough for us!"

Another groan.

"Oh, fuck me..."

**"Meeting another friend must have been nice."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It was a nice change from watching people you know die. Plus, all the chaos of the past three days started dying off, making it better to stand."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So what occurred next?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Interrupt again, and this interview is over."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Fine. Just be quick about it."**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Now, Shepard, what did you do next?"**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"I went to Huerta Memorial. Where I ran into more friends...and a new recruit."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Out so soon? I do believe so.**_

_**This marks the end of what I call the very short 'Mercenary Arc' of the story. Marcus now has the Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack and Aria's troop under his belt, which means he's set the foundation for his ground forces and some of his naval force. Next chapter will be mostly conversations before the Normandy heads to Palaven.**_

_**Keelah Se'lai!**_


	8. Chapter 7 No Man Left Behind

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER SEVEN:**

**NO MAN LEFT BEHIND**

_June 3, 2186_

_1529 hours._

_Reception Area, Huerta Memorial Hospital, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

Marcus had never really visited Huerta Memorial himself until now, as he hadn't really had a reason to do so; the Normandy's medical facilities were just as good as a hospital's, and the only time he had ever sent someone to the hospital was Jack, and that had been under extreme circumstances.

the reception area of Huerta Memorial was huge; a large rectangular structure with the main entrance at the back, and the entrance to the main medical offices and rooms at the front. There was a medical kiosk at the left of the room, where a large sitting area with two sofas sat, overlooking the Presidium from above through a large, square observation window. The same could be found on the right, but it was more secretive and private, with a large bulkhead seperating people's view from it. Attached to that bulkhead was reception itself; closed off, with three terminals, all manned by three of the hospital's staff.

And because of the war, the hospital was bristling with activity. The reception was packed with many humans and batarians, some with asari or salarian psychologists tending to them, while others had turian nurses seeing to cuts or burns. Others were rushed straight through the doors to triage, their wounds either grevious, or their bodies in need of amputation. Either way, Huerta Memorial was a haven for the dead and dying.

It was the last place he wanted to be, but a friend he cared for deeply was here, and he wanted to see him.

He moved forward, moving towards the reception desk, but just as he moved towards it, he heard a loud grunt, followed by heavy, laboured breathing, that made him stop and turn to the left, facing the sitting area. There, positioned infront of the second sofa, was a man in a dark green, laced with black, jacket and was sparring with himself; fists lashing out every once and a while, letting out grunts of effort as he landed each one. The laboured breaths were heavy, croaky and raspy, attempting to take in as much air as they could.

The man's skin...or should he say, scales, were bright and radioactive green, head crest slightly spiked and prickly. Marcus could only smile as he halted his approach to the desk and instead spun on the spot, heading straight for the man. Suddenly, as if sensing Marcus' approach, the man turned, half-lidded eyes meeting his. Unlike humans, drell eyes blinked horizontally, not vertically, and looked alot like frogs when they did so. His lips were cracked and dry, but his eyes lit up upon seeing Marcus, relaxing his tense body as he smiled.

"Shepard," his drell friend greeted, "A pleasant surprise. Although not so, gathering how I knew you would eventually find yourself here." He held a hand to Marcus, one he willingly took and shook, hand clenching hard around the assassin's, as did the drell's.

Marcus grinned, slapping him on the back, "A pleasant surprise is seeing _you _here, Thane. First I run into Kelly, and now this? This is beyond coincidence. That or its sheer luck. I thank both equally; my life's become a bit too lonely on the Normandy for me to continue going without the occassional greeting from a friend or two."

Thane nodded in agreement, turning to look down on the Presidium, "All too true. Although I gather you are having a hard fight ahead of you, it is nice to talk. Come, sit. It has been...seven months? Yes, maybe. Either way, it has been a long time since we last talked," he gulped, taking a seat on the sofa, "I would welcome some conversation. My son visits regularly, and Doctor Chakwas has taken care of me adequately. But it has been a while since I have had a conversation with a friend."

Marcus accepted the offered seat, letting himself drop next to Thane, sighing as he let his tense muscles loosen up and allow him to relax. Suddenly, he was turning back to the assassin, eyes widening again, "Chakwas is here too? Damn. I'm hitting the jackpot here."

"And it'll only get better," Thane stated. He noticed Marcus' raised eyebrow, but decided to remain cryptic and did not elaborate further, his eyes telling Shepard that it would be up to him to find out what he meant later. Instead, the captain cleared his throat and draped an arm over the sofa, facing the drell, who had quietly folded his hands in his own lap.

"Well, for starters, what was with that sparring stuff?" Marcus asked, "Need to hit something? I'm willing to be beaten. God knows that a few husks and Cerberus soldiers aren't enough to satisfy my need for a serious beating." He chuckled at his joke, and it seemed to grab a slight smile from the drell, but Thane did not act on it, only replying in a matter-of-fact tone, as was accustom to him.

"Keeping in shape is a necessity if I am to stay in peak physical shape. For someone with Kepral's Syndrome such as us drell, that is difficult, and I do it as regularly as possible, but it does take a toll on my respiratory system," he noticed Marcus' sad expression, and shook his head, "Do not worry for me, for I have accepted the inevitable. I will die, but not before the Reapers are done and gone from our galaxy, I promise you that."

"How...how long?" he asked, "During our mission against the Collectors, you said you didn't have long to live. How long is that now?"

"The last doctor I spoke with, and the one I trusted the most, gave me three months to live," he stated, sighing heavily as he leaned back, shaking his head, "Shepard, that was four months ago. I have asked and asked, and none have given me reliable answers. Suffice to say however, my time is coming, and it will be soon. Already my coughing has become sporadic, and just sprinting enflames my lungs to the point of near suffocation. Eventually, I just could not take normal life anymore, and I have ended up here," he waved at his surroundings, "Kolyat brought me here as soon as he could. Like I said, he visits regularly, and for now and until the end of my life, this is my home. This hospital."

He gulped, not knowing the words to say, or how to voice them. He had encountered many difficulties among his crew; Mordin's short lifespan of 40 years and how he was in his late thirties, Joker's Vrolik syndrome, EDI and Legion's AI status, Jacob and Miranda's relations with Cerberus, Grunt's superkrogan strength, Garrus' problems with the law, Tali's weak immune system, and the list just went on. But none of them had been as close to death as Thane was...at least Mordin had a few more years left in his life. Thane had days. Weeks. And months was the maximum. The drell didn't even know if he'd live long enough to see the war's end. Hell, what if the drell died, believing in victory, and then went to the afterlife, witnessing our defeat? Thane's difficulty was the most confronting of all, and it made Marcus sad to think of the drell's unbareable, but accepted, fate.

"I'm sorry Thane," Marcus stated pitifully, unable to think of anything else to say in that moment, "I'm sorry I can't help you. I'm sorry that none of the Primacy's or Union's scientists could find a cure for your disease, and I'm sorry that noone can save you. This must be hard."

"For Kolyat, it is a foreseeable nightmare turned horrifying reality," Thane answered calculatedly, sighing once more as he turned and met Marcus' eyes, "For me, it is something I've known would always come, and have accepted. Weep no tears for me, for when it comes, I shall embrace Kalahira and Amonkira in the stars."

"So I guess that means you can't join us?" Marcus asked, silently berating himself for being so selfish, but knowing that he really did need as many friends as he could on his crew to back him, "You said seven months ago that you'd join us when I called for it, and that you'd fight the Reapers to your last breath."

Thane nodded, eying Marcus with sadness in his features, something rare for the drell, "I remember what I said, and I remember them with shame. I would not call my words lies, but I would call them misconceptions. I am not flawless Shepard; the future is as untold as the mysteries of the universe, and I, in my stupor, could not see the obvious. That I would not be able to join you, because my Kepral's Syndrome would limit me from doing so. I apologize Shepard, but I cannot join your crew. I would be of no help to you, and only get myself killed, and doubtless many more. Not only would I be a detriment, but I would be limited in combat. I am not as I was; I'm not...what I used to be."

Marcus nodded to each of Thane's words and by the end, had his hand on the drell's shoulder, squeezing it, "I'm sorry Thane, what I requested was selfish. I should have seen the state you were in, and known straight away. Fret not Thane, I do harbor any harsh judgement forwards you or prejudice. Your decision is one based on regret, I understand, and I'm sorry to not have you join us, but at the same time, I understand. Just...I hope you find peace when you finally pass away. And when you feel yourself slipping away, don't just call Kolyat, call me. I'd like to think you as my friend Thane, and so would the rest of the crew. We'll be by your side, till the end. I know you'd do the same for me, or any of us."

"Thank you Shepard. And yes, I would appreciate that. Your personality is eccentric, and I find myself enthralled by your ability to keep on through the toughest of times, Shepard. It is inspiring, even if you do not see it that way," when the drell finished, Marcus merely nodded, a silent agreement being acknowledged between the two. They had fought and bled while fighting the Collectors, and while those had been good times, those times were now over. Thane was on his last breaths of air, and Marcus would not tear him away from his son and family just to have him die on some planet out in the middle of nowhere. That wasn't fair on him.

_You think this war is fair, Marcus? You think the Reapers play fair? They haven't yet, but they will take the Citadel eventually. And when they do, they will kill or harvest Thane just like everybody else, and you'll be a fool for not bringing him with you. _Marcus shook those vehement thoughts away, disgusted by their contents. _How could I even think like that? Thane is my friend. Not a tool to be used. The Blue Suns are a tool. The Eclipse and Blood Pack are a tool. But not Thane. Not my friends. Not my...my family._

Thane broke the silence, speaking with a reserved tone, "I noticed them bringing Staff Commander Alenko through triage many hours ago. He seemed to be in critical condition."

Marcus nodded, happy to have his thoughts brought elsewhere, "Yeah. We ran into a Cerberus infiltration unit; a synthetic AI, on Mars. She was trying to escape with some data on a anti-Reaper superweapon we found, and I gave chase. We thought we'd killed her, _it, _but then it just came out of nowhere, and before I knew it, he was on the ground in a coma. It beat him with an inch of his life, and I ended its life."

"I see," Thane replied, nodding, "Alenko will recover. He is a strong marine; I saw that, even on the Normandy. What happened to the synthetic?"

Marcus shrugged, "Took it back to the Normandy dumped it in the AI Core; EDI's monitoring it while we figure out what to do with it. I have half a mind to hand it over to Hackett's engineers and see what data we can find on Cerberus, but I'm also tempted to flush it out an airlock. Call it a dilemma."

"You said yourself that the easy decisions are hardly the right ones," Thane returned with a quick nod of his head, as if in self-agreement, "It'd be better to send it to the Alliance. The amount of data that could be obtained from a Cerberus AI could be beneficial to taking them down; although doing so seems hardly important right now."

"Cerberus is not what they were, Thane. They're stronger somehow," he explained, "On Mars, we weren't facing your standard fuckwit of a commando who was paid to fire a gun, but not taught how to aim it. These were assault troopers; heavy armor, cybernetic strength, and group cohesion. Sure, they were still dumb, but they were smarter. They moved faster, were stronger and definitely alot more effective. This synthetic _looked _and _talked _like a human, Thane; the hair, the face, _the eyes. _You would have never thought she was synthetic. Do you remember Cerberus being able to do that? We came across Liara on Mars too, Thane. She says that a Cerberus cruiser, that looked like an Alliance one, attacked and destroyed her base. _An alliance cruiser? _Since when did Cerberus have a navy? The Illusive Man has been up to some serious shit."

"Cerberus managed to bring a man back from the dead when he was nothing but melted meat. You were scattered over an entire planet, but they found you and they didn't clone you; they rebuilt you, from the personality, to your base memories," Thane stated, simply giving him the facts, "Resurrection is like time travel, Shepard. Scientists have declared both impossible for years. Yes, you humans believe that time travel into the future is possible; but that's years at best. What about pure time travel? Pure time travel is impossible, they say. Resurrection is impossible, they say. You are living proof that they are wrong on the latter. If Cerberus can do that, what's to stop them building a military armada? No, Cerberus' rise to power should have been expected. All the say; focus on the Reapers, not Cerberus. Let others deal with them. Remember what Cerberus brought you back for."

"The Reapers," Marcus agreed, nodding his consent, "You make a good point Thane, but it still strikes me as wrong to just ignore Cerberus. We can't let them do what they want. The Illusive Man wants to control the Reapers, and with his stunt on Mars, I'm not sure we can just pretend he doesn't exist. Hell, if Aria tells true, he has control of _Omega. _A power that can assume control of a space station like that, and is my avowed enemy? I can't just ignore that."

"Then don't," the drell, for the first time Marcus had known him, made physical contact with him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it like he had done to the assassin, "Whether you like it or not, this is now a three-front war. You've got both the Reapers and Cerberus to worry about, and only one of them means total destruction for all of us. We know the Reapers are what matters, but if Cerberus gets in the way? Amonkira knows they must be destroyed, and Kalahira will guide you. I cannot help you do this, but know this; if you believe Cerberus is an enemy incapable of being ignored, then deal with them swiftly, for they will be a thorn in your side later on."

"Thanks Thane. I'll keep that in mind. But right now, I feel like the Untouchables trying to take down bloody Al Capone. Except I know they're the enemy, the entire galaxy knows it, we just can't find the bastards," he sighed, rubbing his face, "But enough about that; I didn't come to discuss strategies against Cerberus."

"You didn't come here to talk to me at all," Thane noted, "You were here for Staff Commander Alenko."

"Its Major now, actually," Marcus corrected, "And how did you know that?"

"I am an assassin. I _was _an assassin. You learn to notice these things," the drell stated, with what sounded like smugness, but Marcus shrugged it off, "That, and it was obvious. You were unaware that Chakwas or I was here until you arrived and then asked me about the former, which leaves one option; Major Alenko. It is a foregone conclusion."

"Well...guess I deserved that, actually," he grinned, laughing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah...I'm worried for Kaidan. He took one hell of a beating on Mars, and I just want to check to see that he's alright before we...head out."

"You are leaving. A pity. Although gathering we are at war, it would be foolish to assume you'd stay for the semantics and medials of Citadel life," he nodded, like it was forlorn and defeated, the drell seeming lost almost, "Where do you plan to go?"

"We're basically waiting for the Reapers' next move, really. That, and for Hackett to get back to me on whether this superweapon will get green-lighted or not," Marcus ruffled his hair, something he hadn't really cut for a long time and it had started to grow very long. Hell, even his beard was more puffy than usual, and he was starting to look too much like James Longstreet for his liking, "I guess we'll head out and gather some resources. Hell, if I'm lucky, I might stumble upon the Migrant Fleet, figure out what's taking Tali so long..." he trailed off, shaking his head, "We'll find something to do. The Normandy crew never gets any rest."

"That is true enough. It saddened me to hear the crew parted. But it is one thing to be parted from your crew, and quite another from your spouse," he looked at the back of the captain's head, noticing that he refused to meet his eyes, "You miss her. It is clear in your gesture and positioning. This tells me that finding the Migrant Fleet has less to do with the war effort, and more to do with expelling your seperation anxiety."

"I'm coping Thane. I can't afford to let something as pathetic as loneliness stop me from winning this damn war," he growled, but his voice was not full of malice, merely held back frustration, "But you're right. I'd be asking Liara to devote all her resources to finding her if I could, but that's something Marcus Shepard would do, not Commander Shepard. Not Captain Shepard. No, Captain Shepard is a soldier. A military man. And you know what comes first for military men."

"The ones they love," this caught Marcus' attention, and before he could talk further, Thane continued, "Soldiers do not just fight for their species, or their world, or their governments, or for themselves. Usually, if they are threatened, they fight for their family. Is that not what you fight for? What do you fight for?"

"A future. A house, C-" he choked on the last word, orginally not thinking it possible. But Mordin Solus, the best damn salarian scientist in galactic history, and a man he owed a personal debt, had made it just that, "Children."

"That is what every soldier fights for. What most of them fight for. So don't think that just because you have an enemy to fight that you should not search for Mrs. Shepard," Thane observed, standing up as he moved over to the window, clasping his hands behind his back, "Maybe she will find you, or you'll find her, but you will find each other. Wars have a habit of doing that. Don't make the mistake I did; the ringmen killed my wife, so don't let the Reapers kill yours before you get to hold her one last time. Achieve that future you wish for Shepard. Many won't get it, but the ones who persevere will."

"I don't know what to say Thane," Marcus replied, giving a weak smile, "I'll take that into consideration."

"Nothing is needed to be said," the drell turned back to him, hands still clasped behind his back as he too, gave a weak smile, "As I have said, I do not have much time left. But for Major Alenko, our mutual friend, I shall make time. As we are both in the same hospital, I will make it my personal duty to watch over him, to protect him. I will be his guardian, his sentinel...his bodyguard in the shadows, if you wish."

"You don't have to do that, Thane. You've done more than enough."

"Cerberus and the Reapers would not care. Destruction of their enemy is enough for them, and Alenko still lives," Thane stated sincerely, with danger in his tone, "No, I will protect him from any harm. None will come to him while he is under my protection."

"Thank you Thane. That means alot. I'm sure Alenko appreciates it," Marcus declared, coming to stand up, holding out his hand one more time, "I'm sorry to be the one to say it, but I have to go. The retrofit might be done soon, and I have to leave as soon as it is. Which means I have one chance to speak to Kaidan, and I don't want to miss it."

"I completely understand, and wish you luck on your mission," he took Marcus' hand and shook it firmly, as the drell always did, and then entered a coughing fit, Marcus' eyes widening as he came to the drell's side, easing him onto the sofa gently as he essentially coughed every bit of air he had out of his body. He dry heaved as his body desperately tried to bring in every bit of reserves it had.

"Thane! Thane! Damn it, somebody! We need help over here!" Marcus cried out, ignoring Thane's futile hand gestures for him to quiet down, and that he felt fine. The drell continued to cough and then dry heave, repeating the process until he seemed to be suffocating. In a instant, he heard someone run to join him, and within a single moment, he watched as the grey-haired, aging form of Doctor Karin Chakwas came into view, seemingly ignorant of his presence as she dropped her kit next to Thane, and brought out a breather, sticking it over his mouth while whispering at him to take long, deep breaths. Thane ceased coughing and did as was told, and slowly and gradually, his breathing came under control.

Leaving him like that, Marcus nodded, and turned to Chakwas, who still wasn't looking at him, eyes transfixed on the drell sitting before her, "Karin? Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes, Captain Shepard, he's going to be just fine," she turned to him, smiling, "It is good to see you again, however, Marcus."

"You too, Karin," he smiled warmly, and Chakwas seemed to wrap him in a tight, motherly hug that only herself and Hannah could give him without it being awkward. He grinned as they pulled apart, nodding to her. After a second however, he seemed to catch on to what she had said before, and frowned, "Wait, how did you know I got promoted?"

She chuckled, waving a dismissive hand, "I'm connected over Alliance channels; Admiral Hackett's been keeping me posted on your status the entire time I've been working in this hospital. Which, I must say, is pretty stale. No offense intended towards Administrator Michel, but I'll take a certain stealth frigate's med bay over a hospital any day of the week. Or year. Pah. The semantics. Let's just say ship life loves me more."

"What was it you said to me three years ago when we officially met for the first time?" he chuckled, holding up his hands in air quotes, "'Something about patching up old soldiers appealed to me. Pumping them full of medi-gel, and listening to them spill their young souls.' Yeah, something like that."

"I was a romantic," Chakwas returned, pouting, "I'm surprised you even remembered that. That was a very long time ago."

"What can I say? I listen," Marcus joked, and Chakwas chuckled as well, all the way to Thane's side she did, until she had to stop to ask him a serious question.

"Are you feeling any dizziness? The urge to cough? How does your lungs feel?"

"They burn, Doctor Chakwas. They always burn," Thane noted, looking at her, "But otherwise, I feel fine. My coughing has ceased, and I do not feel dizzy."

"Very well, Mr. Krios," Chakwas replied, pulling off his breather and tossing it into her kit. She pointed at it, her voice full of sternness, "If you ever feel the urge to cough again, you pick up that breather without thinking about it. I will not allow you to die just yet, you hear me? It isn't your time yet."

"Yes, Doctor Chakwas. I adhere to your judgment," he turned to Marcus, nodding with a look of contentment, "Goodbye, Shepard. May Amonkira guide your aim, and Kalahira guide your wife to your side."

"Goodbye Thane. We'll speak again soon," and with that, the captain gave a final nod and turned away, following Chakwas back into the medical center, where she had apparently been heading when she heard Thane's coughing fit. _What excellent timing. _Seeing that she did not plan on talking anytime soon, he spoke up just as she tapped the interface for the door to open, "So Karin, just what have you been up to these past six months?"

As the door shot open, they were greeted by blue strobes of light that danced over their bodies, the high-tech decontamination beams cleansing them of bacteria and sterilizing their bodies as they moved through the corridor and tapped the door at the end, which glowed green upon them reaching it and opened to omit them. At that point, Chakwas replied, stopping outside and turning to face him, content to just talk with him in the middle of the corridor, "Working here, mostly. It hadn't been busy at all, and then the Reapers hit Khar'Shan. And that's when they started piling in. Next thing you know, Earth is hit, and we start getting our own people too. We have many skilled doctors, but we have far more patients, and they just keep coming."

"Sounds like hell," he stated, and Chakwas simply snorted, moving to the right where she reached a desk, and dumped her kit ontop of it.

"Hell? Hell is what I went through when the Collectors abducted me and the rest of the crew," she shook her head, turning to meet his eyes as she crossed her arms under her breasts, "Hell is what this war will be once it escalates and we both know it will, and then some. Trust me Marcus, this is nothing compared to what some people are going through on Earth and Khar'Shan. I feel safe knowing I'm not one of those people, as selfish as it may sound."

"Everyone feels safer knowing they're not part of the ground zero slaughter house," he stated sorrowfully, shaking his head, "I'm just glad you're okay Chakwas. I was beginning to think you had been left on Earth."

"What did I tell you about my experience on Mars?" she stated, hands on her hips, "I told you I do not like planetary assignments, and Hackett knew this and put in a special case for me. The Citadel isn't exactly a starship, but its as close to one as I was going to get. The only other option was the Normandy, and she wasn't in need of a medical officer at the time she was being retrofitted. And speaking of the Normandy..." she trailed off, sighing heavily, "How is Joker? Has he been taking his medication?"

"I wouldn't know. He never tells me, I never ask," Marcus grinned.

"Men," she exasperated, "But considering him, I'd be surprised if he was. The stubborn bastard never did listen to me, always getting his shins broken, or maybe a little too much force on his palms. I keep telling him it'll hurt or break something, but does he listen? Well, you can answer that one for yourself."

"I'll send you his...scolding, verbally and in quotations," he returned, and Chakwas gave him a stern smile, one he returned in warmer pretenses before both went silent. They knew what question came next, but he hadn't wanted to ask straight off the bat. But it was better to get it out of the way, so he knew what to expect, "Karin...just how is Kaidan doing?"

"He's a marine, so he's holding up pretty good, but most of the critical damage is on his face," she shook her head, sighing, "He's upper lip had been split, and that was the least of it. His face was literally swollen black from the amount of bruises on his face, and one of his eyes was swollen completely shut. He had a few blisters that had expanded and popped, and we had to clean up the blood that was left afterwards. He'll recover, as its not exactly mortal injury, but it will take time. He's bed-ridden for another few weeks, and he won't be combat capable for many more after that. Its all a matter of how he copes, really. But I'm not the one tending to him; I only know the basics of it really. You'd have to ask his overseer. She's not with him now, but she will be soon."

He nodded, happy that his friend's injuries didn't seem to be too life-threatening, "That's great news, Karin," but as he finished, he felt like another question, more desperate, needed to be addressed. Needed to be...answered, "Karin...the Normandy. We...well, let's just say we don't have any medical officers of any kind...kinda why we brought Kaidan here in the first place, and it'd be great to-"

"Consider it done," Chakwas stated without needing further elaboration, and Marcus just stood there with a surprised look on his face. Seeing his dumb expression, she shook her head, sighing exasperatedly, "Joker plus no medication equals no pilot, and we can't have a pilotless Normandy, can we? Besides, I miss the Normandy and that damnable med bay, so why not? Michel won't have trouble getting more staff, so she won't miss one doctor. I'll pack up my stuff and head right there, once I'm done informing Michel, of course. Where is the Normandy docked?"

Managing to break himself out of his stupor, he shook his head nodding, "Oh, its in Docking Bay D24." _That was really easy. Although, considering its Karin, I shouldn't be surprised. She really does love the Normandy. Damn, is Joker in for a shock. Chakwas will have him poked full of needle holes before he knows she's even back onboard. _That thought caused him to smile, and Chakwas reciprocated it, oblivious to his thoughts.

"I will see you there then," she turned to gather her things but after a second, she turned back around, smiling, "Its good to see you again, Marcus. I thought two years of dealing with your death was bad, but six months of knowing you're alive but locked up is excruciating, especially for a certain someone out there."

_Tali. It always comes down to Tali. Why can't I have a simple conversation without her being mentioned? _He sighed, nodding, "I know, and I'll find her eventually, but for now, the war comes first. I'll see you later Karin, but right now, I want to see Kaidan while I still have a chance."

She nodded, mouthing her goodbye as she turned to begin packing her things. Without so much as a second glance, he walked away, moving over to the nearest room and looking through the glass walls to find Kaidan. His luck was high, as the first room housed the slumbering marine, naked from the waist up, his broad muscled chest caked with numerous, tiny bruises, but it was his face that looked battered.

He palmed the interface and walked inside, hearing the door close behind him. Seeing a seat nearby, he pulled up the stool and sat it next to the sentinel's bed, plopping down on it and scanning the tired marine's features as he quielty snored, chest rising with every intake of breath. Chakwas hadn't been joking about his injuries either; his left eye was swollen completely shut, while the second had been close to doing so. He had a large bruise crossing his forehead, while another one made it look like a black abomination of an ulcer was growing out of his right cheek. All in all, he looked like the literal definition of shit.

He sighed, leaning back, knowing that staying was pointless. The man was knocked out cold, and was likely pumped full of painkillers and in a chemically induced coma. He wouldn't wake up for days at best, and even then he'd be in mild pain. He wouldn't be up for talking, and Marcus didn't understand what compelled him to stay seated. To remain where he was.

But he did, and simply stared at the man's calm features, how peaceful he looked. It was times like this when Marcus wished he could look that peaceful, that he didn't have to look so cold and calculating and steel-like as he did on the battlefield. Words came bubbling forth from his mouth before he knew what he was saying, and he did not delay their onslaught, "Hey...Kaidan," he began lamely, laughing at how pathetically he had started the conversation. The man remained unmoving; breathing, but not even so much as an eye flickered as he spoke. He was effectively talking to himself, but for some reason he continued, hands clasped on his knees.

"Don't know if you can hear me, but...ah..." he rubbed the back of his neck, taking a quick look outside to make sure noone was rushing to get him arrested for possible insanity, he turned back around to continue speaking, "But since you can't tell me to get the hell out either, I guess you're stuck with me."

He sighed, rubbing his face, "You don't have permission to die Kaidan. You've got to fight. We need you in this. Seeing you in action again it...reminded me that...you're one hell of a soldier. Stay alive, Kaidan. That's a bloody order. You die, and I'll kick your ass."

If Kaidan recognized the joke or even heard his words, he did not acknowledge it, remaining devoid of motion. Marcus finally gave a sigh, realizing how sissy his words sounded. _Thank God he isn't awake. He'd probably comment on how gay this entire conversation is. _That gave Marcus a moment of laughter, before he dropped it and shook his head, patting the man's soldier, "Stay alive, soldier. Keep up the good fight; inside and outside. The Reapers are here, and I need every one of my friends by my side to see this through," he turned to leave, but halted at the door, glancing at his form one more time, "Hurry up and heal up. I'll need you pretty damn soon."

With that awkward monologue given, Marcus tapped the interface and made to leave, only to bump into someone, followed by a loud, feminine gasp as said person fell backwards slightly.

On instinct he reached a hand out and grabbed the person's wrist, feeling rubber under his grip, and immediately recognizing what looked to be a suit underline. Righting her up, he decided he now had the chance to examine her. However, when his eyes landed on her, he immediately realized she was a quarian, and upon hearing her speak up, knew who she was.

She met his eyes, hand over her heart in relief, "Keelah, its just you Commander. You nearly gave me a...what's that terrible human expression? A heart attack? I think that's what it is."

"Correct," he grinned, shaking his head, "Damn, I'm hitting the jackpot for most convenient encounters. First Thane, then Chakwas, and now you. Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, just what are you doing on the Citadel?"

"Well, I'm working for Administrator Michel in this hospital as a doctor, actually," she stated simply, and it was then that Marcus noticed the doctor's earplugs hanging around the back of her neck, the datapad she had tucked under one arm and the look of professionalism that she could only have gotten during her time working with Mordin. He chuckled lightly.

"So you're a doctor now, are you?" It was then that both Chakwas' and Thane's previous words made him realize something, and his grin only widened, "Wait...Lia, are you Kaidan's overseer?"

"I..." she trailed off, but managed to regain some of her composure, shaking her head, "Yes, yes I am. Doctor Michel appointed me as soon as he arrived, as she apparently recognized him from her past, said he saved her at one point in a old clinic she owned. I was saddened to know he was hurt, but I was more than willing to help."

"That's good to hear Lia," Marcus noted, slapping the quarian on her shoulder as they both stepped away to let Kaidan's door close and lock, "Its really good to see you." _God...can I really ask her to join my crew again? After what she went through with the Collectors? Ah, forget them, she's Kaidan's personal doctor! You can't just keep taking Michel's personnel away from her! Wasn't Chakwas enough? _Besides, could he really take what was, technically, still a quarian adolescent into a war? Could he hold himself accountable for what happened to her? _Yes, I would. And that's what scares me. Losing such a young life to the Reapers. That, and she reminds me so much of Tali when she was still on her pilgrimage._

He had become adept at picking up on quarian emotions behind the mask, and he could tell Lia was smiling from the quint of her eyes, "You too, Commander. I apologize again for my abrupt departure from the Normandy, but I really did need to finish my pilgrimage, and I thought that completing my experience as a doctor would be really beneficial to the fleet. I know the crew of the Ulnay would be proud of me."

_If this war continues like this, you won't be returning home. You'll be stuck here, amputating wounded soldiers, and giving mercy-killings for those too far gone. _He realized how fucked up those thoughts were and pushed them into the deepest pits of hell he could find, and turned to her, nodding with a smile, "I know they would be Lia; anyone who impresses the great Professor Solus is one asset the quarians can't afford to ignore. Mordin gave you high praise, and he was actually alittle saddened when you decided to leave. Something about 'alittle salarian' in you."

"Had to have been me," she quoted, smiling, "Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

"And now you sound like him. God, now we have a quarian female Mordin," he laughed, and Lia laughed as well, "This is good, Lia. Although, I was wondering-" was he really asking this? Asking her to drop all her things, ignore Kaidan and join his crew again? Sure, the Tech Lab was empty and sorely needing people to man it, but could he ask Lia to do so? This wasn't the Collector campaign anymore; this was a war of extermination, and not all of them would survive it. Could he ask Lia to risk her life based on that?"

Before he could continue, a voice yelled out, another one he recognized, shouting Lia's name. Both of them turned to the source, Lia he noticed turned alittle faster, and he watched the familiar form of a drell, Thane's son who went by the name of Kolyat, run towards them, seemingly not noticing Marcus as he approached Lia with a datapad in hand, almost bumping into a rushing salarian doctor, who looked annoyed at the interruption.

Kolyat arrived by her side, hand on her shoulder as she showed her his datapad, "I won! I think I actually won the jackpot! I did the bet, and I won!"

"You did what?" Lia asked, danger in her tone. Marcus was confused at first, not knowing exactly what was going on. Before he could do anything however, Kolyat looked at her like she was an idiot, but continued nonetheless.

"Come on Lia, don't give me that. I did it for the best," he nodded to the datapad, "I made a bet, and I won. _We _won. He says the apartment will be ours by tomorrow."

Lia eyed the datapad for one second, Marcus unable to read her features. The next second however took a turn for the surprising. She looked at the drell and then shot her hand out, slapping him across the face, "You IDIOT!" She yelled out, but not loud enough to break the noise of the hospital around them, "You met all of your money, _our _money, on an apartment!?"

"Did you miss the bit where we _won?_" he growled back, holding his cheek, which was quickly reddening into a three-fingered hand mark, "Are you crazy, woman? New apartment, hello! My dad wouldn't approve, but..."

"And neither do I! You bet our entire life savings on a possible win! I don't know whether I should love you or hate you right now!" That caught Marcus' attention, and his glance shot between the quiet Kolyat and Lia for a few seconds, before everything clicked into place with one quick revelation. _Holy shit...these two are a couple? When the hell did Kolyat and Lia hook up? How long has this been happening? I always thought Lia had a crush on Garrus..._

"Maybe a little of both," Kolyat purred, and Marcus found the need to gag from the sound, but the drell continued on smiling like an idiot, and crossed his arms, "Maybe I've gotten my slap of hate, and need a kiss of love."

"If you think I'm taking off my mask...in _here _of all places...just to kiss you, you're seriously mistaken," she crossed her arms, shaking her head, "Consider yourself exiled to the couch, tonight."

"In the new apartment?"

A loud sigh, followed by a nod, "Yes, in the new apartment."

Kolyat nodded and smiled like a kid getting a new toy, before taking his chances and pulling her into his arms, landing a kiss ontop of her hood. His smile dropped, and his voice took on a more serious, but lighter, tone, "I did this for us, Lia. Us. I want us to be happy, and once this war is over, we'll have a home for ourselves. I promise I'll find myself a job. And maybe, if you want, we can adopt."

"Well, actually..." Lia whispered in his arms, apparently placated by Kolyat's tight embrace, "Mordin made this serum for Shepard and Tali...it um...its for humans and quarians, but I'm sure I can modify it for drell and quarians and um...well it allows for um...conception between species...Keelah, I can't believe we're talking about children already! We've only been together two months!"

"Best to plan ahead, eh?" He joked, squeezing her tightly, "Besides, the way you act in bed, I think we'll be getting children whether we like it or not..."

"Okay, I think I've heard too much already," Marcus finally piped up, and Lia practically leaped from Kolyat's arms, having forgotten he was even there. Kolyat hadn't known to begin with, and fumbled with his clothes, straightening them up and looking at Marcus wide-eyed and gulping. Lia looked embarassed, and Marcus could only smile, laughing. _How could I possibly seperate these two? They're adorable together, and I'm sure Tali would agree. She'd probably make me sleep on the couch for the rest of my life if she learnt I'd made Lia join my crew, knowing it'd seperate her from her...boyfriend. I wonder if Thane knows about them. No, silly question. Of course he does. No, looks like Lia won't be joining the Normandy today._

"Commander Shepard!" Kolyat stumbled, "I didn't see you there!" he looked at Lia, gulping like a frightened rabbit, "Look, this is not what it looks like-"

"One, you're a terrible liar Kolyat," he grinned, shaking his head as he clasped his hands behind his back, "Two, I don't care. Lia knows I wouldn't care. My wife is a quarian, Kolyat, and the man I consider to be a brother is a turian. So if you think I have a problem with inter-species relationships, or this relationship in general, you can forget it. Three, you two are perfect. Wouldn't even contemplate seperating you. I think I'll leave you two alone now, actually," he turned to Lia, giving a tip of his hat...well...metaphorically, "Good day to you, Lia'Vael."

She nodded in confusion, one that was quickly cleared up as she nodded back to him, "Yes, I...good day to you too, Shepard. And good luck on your mission."

And with that, Marcus was gone, marching back through decontamination and and out of the hospital. And the entire time? He was smiling. Oh yes, definitely smiling. He had expected alot of things out of this war, but this? This day was the best he had yet.

He hoped nothing would ruin it.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1216 hours._

_Flight Deck, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau._

Marcus stood infront of the airlock, still wearing his casual clothing with the exception of his cap as he stood in parade rest, waiting to greet his new crew members. Chakwas had settled into the med bay ages ago, and was probably probing EDI for the contents of her retrofitted world, while being helped by, surprise surprise, Doctor Michel! The doctor had basically given command of the hospital to one of her subordinates, and practically leapt into the Normandy's airlock. Now the med bay had two doctors instead of one.

Kelly had a decent conversation with Samantha before joining her, and now both of them worked at the same terminal, exchanging thoughts on similiar topics like chatting schoolgirls. Already Kelly was settling in, and he had a feeling the both of them would get along just fine. _Note to self: Talk with Samantha, James, Keeling and Cortez when you get the time. New crew members, time to get acquianted. _No, he wasn't here to greet those crew members. He was here to greet the ones Hackett had cryptically promised him.

He hadn't been too concrete on the details, but it was definitely something along the lines of providing an actual engineering crew for the ship, as the current state of the frigate meant they had none, someone to man the tech lab, a contingent of marines; at least a full platoon that would be placed under Vega's command, who answered to Keeling, who answered to him...and then the rest of the ship needed to be crewed as well. So as it stood, he could practically hug Hackett. The Normandy was under-staffed as it was, and the man had given him a god's gift.

_I'd like the old crew though. I miss Gabby and Ken's bickering in engineering and Tali yelling at them, and Gardner's gruff dismissals of complaints about his food and Garrus' calibrations on the main gun. Those were good times...oh no you don't, Marcus. Head out of the clouds, and in the game! War, you stupid mothefucker, FUCKING WAR. Worry about the good times when the bad times are over._

"Well Shepard," Joker piped up next to him, and Marcus craned his neck towards the cockpit to hear the pilot, "This really is depressing. Its just you, me, EDI, Kelly, Chakwas and Liara. The rest of the crew? Screw 'em. Complete strangers, if you ask me."

He scoffed, turning back to face the airlock, "It ain't all that bad."

"No, its a bloody circus," Joker returned, shaking his head, "How did we end up like this? You know, the Normandy back in Alliance colors, and a bunch of alliance jarheads walkin the halls? What happened to the times before that where we had a crew loyal to _you _and not to the _Alliance. _What happened to those days?"

"I blew them up with a relay," Marcus silently replied, and both men went silent for a while.

"You blew them up with a relay," Joker repeated, sighing heavily, but not out of exasperation, "You'd think such a victory would earn you some medals and a pat on the back. Instead they lock you away for six months, only remembering where the keys were because it was bloody convenient."

"I murdered three hundred thousand people Joker," he bluntly replied, "And I did it to give us more time. I gave us all six months, and we did nothing with it. So in the end, I killed them all for nothing."

"Only because you chose to let them lock you up. Might not be the case if you had been active for six months," Joker stated aggressively, and Marcus turned to him, eyes alight.

"And what would you have had me do, eh? Run the galaxy as a fugitive? How the fuck do I negoitate with people who are simultaneously informing the police where I am? How do you suppose I do that? Handing myself over was the smart thing to do."

"Never said it wasn't. Handing yourself over was your call," he held his hands before him defensively, "I'm just saying things might have been different."

"Jeff is correct," EDI piped up, her hologram appearing on the pedestal nearby, "The statistical possibility of mobilization effectiveness is increased by 1.87 percent if not imprisoned. These odds are decreased the longer you were locked up."

"EDI agrees. The AI agrees with me. Shepard: 0. Joker: 1," he grinned like an idiot, trying to lighten the situation, "Point being, don't beat yourself up captain. I'm not blaming you for burning our good times asunder, I'm simply saying that I miss those times. Everyone on this ship now is just so...lifeless. There's no humor, there's no relating. You try to talk to some female crew member, and they'll throw "sorry, anti-fraternization protocols prohibit me from doing this and that and blah blah blah" and I fall asleep at that point. Their just so...so..."

"By the book?" Marcus ended, and seeing the pilot, he gave a slight chuckle, "Now you sound like Garrus."

"Yeah, but Garrus solved those problems with viglante justice, some crazy batman shit, and a sniper rifle," he waved his hands over his body, "This beautiful, masculine, porcelain body would shatter if I tried any of those three, and definitely if I tried all three. Hell, I can barely fire a pistol without dislocating one finger or another. No, I mean these guys walk and talk like robots; hell, they could recite the entire Alliance protocol handbook for toddlers and the retarded and still not be finished when EDI finishes giving me the status report of a neutron star from three million light years away. That's how boring these people are. Except for Samantha, she's alright. And maybe James. But Keeling is all protocol, and Cortez is all about his precious shuttle. Tedious."

"Maybe these people will be to your high standards, your majesty," Marcus mocked, smirking to the point that Joker swore he was turning into the actual Joker.

"Your majesty? You might remember that when you remember who flies this baby," he grinned, wriggling his eyebrows, "EDI and I are the Normandy duo."

"Oh, so you two are a duo, now?" he crossed his arms, frowning suspiciously, "Joker, since when did you accept EDI? You used to hate her with every fibre in your body."

"And you used to kill geth with every bullet in your rifle. Then we met the oh wonderful Legion, the one-eyed terminator who said that the quarian judgment day was a tragic mistake, and all can be forgiven by the Consensus of Skynet. And yes, I realize that reference is dated," he shook his head, "Point being, I got over my prejudice. EDI saved my life and the Normandy, so she's good. Besides she's...a good friend, I guess."

"Thank you Jeff," the AI omnipotently replied, "I think you're a good friend too."

"Ah...thanks, I guess," he rubbed the back of his neck, and then whispered, knowing the AI could hear him, "She's a bit a creepy too."

"I gathered that Joker," Marcus chuckled, but before the pilot could respond, his console beeped, and EDI spoke.

"The new crew members have arrived at the airlock. They are requesting permission to come onboard."

"Open the gates," Marcus ordered, and he was in parade rest once more as he turned back to the airlock, watching its inteface turn from green to blue as the airlock was decontaminated. He inhaled and exhaled, sighing as he went over Joker's words with contempt. _He's right. Things would be better with the old crew; they were loyal to me and to their fellow crew. These people? I barely know them. How can I put my faith behind people like that? They have to gain my trust, but luckily for them, this war will allow plenty of time for that._

Eventually, the airlock decon sequence concluded and the icon went from blue to green again, before disappearing altogether as the door shot open. And standing in the airlock was their new crew. Infront were three marines in full armor, who stood out of the airlock and saluted him, a gesture he quickly returned before informing them that the armoury was on the fifth deck, where they quickly stomped off too to report to their commanding officer. The whole platoon followed, and then came a sight that made his jaw drop.

Memories from three years ago came flooding back as he watched the engineer step out onto the deck, his hair still as reserved as it had been back then, and eyes still as calm, jawline firm but not powerfully built. The man's hands were that of an engineer, not a deliverer of death. And he would recognize him anywhere.

"I...Adams?" he asked in confusion, shaking his head to remove himself from his shock, "What...I...how? I knew you survived the original Normandy's destruction, but...how can you even be here?"

The man named Adams, who had originally been the chief engineer of the Normandy SR-1 during the Eden Prime War and their chase after Saren, stood there, arms crossed as he smiled, "Hackett sent me as soon as he learned you needed an engineering team. I practically dropped my things on the McKinley to come join you. That, and I'd love to get my hands on the Tantalus Drive Core again."

"Damn Adams, its been three years," Marcus stated, turning to Joker, who seemed to be giving Adams an unforgiving stare. His smile dropped slightly at seeing that vehement look, and he slowly turned back to Adams, concern on his face, "Where were you? I mean, Karin and Joker were there when I woke up, but you were nowhere. What happened?"

Before the engineer had a chance to speak, Joker replied for him, "Ditching you and spitting on you, that's what."

Adams turned to Joker, shaking his head while holding up his hand to stop the pilot, "Now hold on just a-"

Marcus cut him off as he turned to Joker, "What are you talking about?"

"Cerberus, just like with Chakwas and I, sent him a message, trying to recruit him. Normally, I would have done what Adams did and ignored it, and so would have Chakwas, but when they said they were bringing you back, and were rebuilding the Normandy, they had me sucked in. Karin will tell you the same. But Adams..." he eyed the man with rage, "And you have the balls to step on this ship and act like nothing happened..."

"Joker, what exactly happened?"

"He ignored Cerberus' offer. Basically told them to get fucked," Joker smiled at the memory, but it quickly disappeared as fury entered his eyes, turning to Marcus, lips creased in a flash of anger, "I would have been okay with that; but then Chakwas sent him an offer, and guess what? He called us Cerberus lapdogs, was convinced we were brainwashed, and said you were dead and staying dead. 'Go believe in your delusion,' I believe he said. I gave him a piece of my mind in a reply, but he either didn't read or did, and didn't reply. Either way," he turned to Adams again, "He's not in my, or Chakwas', good books."

Marcus turned to Adams, eyes dangerous, "Is this true, Adams?"

The engineer nodded, looking genuinely regretful, "It is, captain. But what else was I supposed to think? A terrorist organization, an enemy you positively _loathed_, came and told me that they were bringing you back from the dead, were rebuilding the Normandy, and that they wanted me on his crew? All I saw was an elaborate trap. One I wasn't going to fall into. If there was proof you were being rebuilt, I'd have joined in a heartbeat-"

"Oh fuck you!" Joker growled, bringing both men's attention back onto him, "Don't try and kiss his ass and just tell the damn truth; if you had any once of loyalty and brotherhood with Shepard, you'd have joined _regardless. _Do you seriously think I'm pathetic enough to believe in a falsehood? Do you think Chakwas in that stupid? No, we're not, because Cerberus gave us _hope. _A hope you chose to flip off so you could continue to play Alliance patriot. Because in the end, the Alliance always comes first for you assholes, doesn't it? You spat on Shepard, and therefore you spat on me. On Chakwas. On the bloody Normandy."

"I'm sorry," Adams apologized, rubbing at his eyes, "I know what I did was incredibly disloyal and I know I must seem like a total asshole, but I want to make it up to you. I regret not helping you with the Collectors, and hope I can make up for that by helping you battle the Reapers. That's what the whole fight has been about, right?"

"Its okay, Adams. Its forgiven," Marcus declared, and noticing the objection on Joker's face, held up a hand to placate him, "What's in the past is done, Joker. All that matters is that he is here now, and he's going to help us."

"Fine," Joker exasperated, but refused to meet Adams' eyes.

"So you said you were here to head the engineering team?" Marcus asked Adams, turning back to the engineer after settling the short dispute, "Are they here with you?"

Adams smiled, nodding as he turned side to side with the airlock, waving a hand for them to come out, "Hackett said you'd like them. Said they had served with you, and that they 'insisted' on being picked."

Marcus knew who they were before they even exited the airlock.

"Eh, Commander," Kenneth Donnelly greeted, coming out of the airlock with a skip in his manly step, eyes bright with contained excitement, his thick scottish accent always making him chuckle, "Good to be back on this wee' little frigate that Joker insists on overclocking."

"I assure you Mr. Donnelly, I have been limiting Joker's access to the main fuel cells and their power regulation," EDI assured him.

"Gee, thanks mum," Joker mumbled, and Ken flashed a grin. It wasn't his reply that came from his lips though, but from his ginger-haired companion.

"Trust me, Joker's better than Ken," Gabriella Daniels, or simply Gabby, stated from next to him, ample lips spreading in a warm smile as she eyed EDI's holopad, "Ken's a bloody menace when it comes to the coolant manifolds. I think he managed to get his hand flash-freezed while trying to access it this one time; Mordin burnt the guy's hand just trying to unfreeze it with incineration."

"The salarian was crazy!" Ken exclaimed, "He could have burnt me hand off!"

"Don't be such a wuss," Gabby scolded.

"Wait, did that VI just refer to Joker by his first name?" Adams asked, and all eyes landed on him, clearly nervous about that explanation, including Gabby and Ken.

"I'm sure these two can explain that when you've entered the safety of the engineering deck," Marcus smirked, shaking his head as he motioned to the airlock, "Anyone else?"

"If you don't mind, I would like to be welcomed aboard."

Marcus sighed happily at the sound of another familiar voice, this one gravelly but full of age and experience, somewhat, "Yes, Rupert, you can come in."

Mess Sergeant Rupert Gardner, the Normandy's custodian and kitcheneer, emerged from the airlock, carrying a large crate of supplies; likely full of the ingredients he would use to make his horrifying concoctions. Marcus grimaced at the thought, but displaced it as he smiled at the man walking by, "We'll have a reunion later; that crate looks heavy. Kitchen's still where it used to be if you want to get set up," he turned to Adams, Gabby and Ken, "You two better get down to engineering and show Adams around. Don't worry, nothing's changed, its the same as it used to be. I need-"

"Captain," EDI said over him, voice easily louder than his over the PA, "Councilor Udina has just sent a message to your private terminal asking for a meeting in the human embassy. He says it is 'of concern to your mission, and might be just what you're asking for.' He asks that you meet him as soon as possible."

"All politicians do," he sighed, nodding, "Okay, EDI. I'll head over to the human embassy right away. You're not to take off until I'm done here, understood?"

"No, I guess I'll just fly off to Thessia and live out my ideas in an asari strip club."

"Joker?"

"Fine. Jesus, sarcasm man. Sarcasm. Don't say somethin stupid, I don't reply sarcastically. That's the rule."

"I'll keep that in mind. Be back soon."

With that, Marcus walked out through the airlock and towards the skycar he parked nearby.

He hoped this meeting was as important as Udina pinned it to be.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1226 hours._

_Councilor Udina's Office, Citadel Embassies, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Councilor Donnel Udina. _

He marched up the steps like a man on a mission, being fairly new to this part of the Embassies. He had only ever accessed the main embassies, but this entire corridor was practically dedicated to the Councilor's offices. Even as he passed, he saw Valern and Tevos' offices, followed by Sparatus'. And on the end, and obviously a fairly new room given the area it was built in, he arrived at Udina's. He hit the green interface, watching the door shoot open as he stepped inside.

He was expecting to see Udina sitting behind his desk, typing at his terminal, and yelling profanities for Marcus just stroding inside his office unannounced.

Instead, Udina was standing, back leaning against his walnut desk and eyes looking down-trodden until he looked up to meet Marcus', no objections in his features. But that wasn't what surprised Marcus; it was Councilor Sparatus standing in the middle of the room, his navy-blue clothed back facing Marcus. Upon hearing the door open, the turian turned around, his mandibles set in a grim outline and eyes looking incredibly defeated.

_What the hell does he want? _

"Shepard," Udina greeted in a heavily-exhausted voice, eyes showing signs of fatigue and lack of rest, "I'm glad you came. Sparatus has something he wishes to tell you."

"Then why not tell me over the QEC?" He asked, "You know it can't be tracked, and all Councilors have them now," he bobbed his head in the direction of the sizzling blue ring platform to the left of the room, and Udina nodded.

"It is safer knowing we spoke face to face," Sparatus defended, turning to meet Shepard's eyes, "I wanted to talk to you about this...superweapon...and this armada you are apparently building. Reports from C-Sec say you've built a force of Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack, and that you even have the infamous Aria T'Loak assisting your cause."

_And that Tevos smuggled her onto the station. Can't have people knowing that now, can we? Or don't you know? _Marcus wanted to break out into a childish grin, but he kept it back, using it for later. For now, he remained professional, nodding to the turian councilor, "That is correct. The Council isn't willing to commit anything, so I've decided to do everything myself. I was planning on heading to either Sur'Kesh or Palaven next to directly appeal to the Union or Hierarchy governments."

"You'll get your chance for both, but right now, you have your chance to appeal to the Hierarchy," Sparatus stated, and his eyes took on that defeated and sorrowful tone once more. Marcus noticed it, and was beginning to actually get a bit worried, "I can't give you the resources you need, but I can tell you how to get it."

"Get to the point Councilor," Marcus growled, having enough of the political games the four councilors loved to play, "I'm sick of tired of batting the bush. Let's get to the thick of why we're here. Why would I need to appeal to the Hierarchy now?"

"You want the point? Very well," Sparatus asked, nodding as he too clasped his hands behind his back, "You were right; the Reapers were coming for one of us, either Sur'Kesh or Palaven, and they've made their move. Palaven is under siege, and it looks like the bulk of the Reaper fleet is there in force. They've done a number on our forces already, and troops have already deployed groundside."

Marcus widened his eyes, his hostile tone taking on a sympathetic tone, "I'm sorry to hear that." _Now you bastards know what it feels like. _Those aggressive thoughts were then replaced by thoughts of his turian brother-in-arms, and how he was possibly still on Palaven. _No. Damn it. Garrus, I hope you're alright buddy. _"But there's not much I can do if your government is already dead."

"Not all of them. The Primarch still lives. He currently resides on Palaven's moon, Menae," Sparatus assured him, "Primarch Fedorian was preparing to evac on an escape shuttle when we lost contact with the Trebia System. We believe he is still alive, and that his extraction is vital to the continuation of turian morale and leadership. He was scheduled to appear at the war summit."

_Well shit. _Marcus knew what the war summit was meant to be; a conglomeration of species from all over Council space to dictate the future of their species and their involvement in the conflict. The asari, salarians, turians, humans and volus were scheduled to be there. _If we lose Fedorian...we lose the greatest military power in the galaxy. _"Let me guess...you want me to extract Fedorian so that the Hierarchy stays intact."

"Yes, and a grateful Primarch will make a powerful ally when the time comes. He'll decide where our fleets fight, our troops shoot, and where our supplies go," he eyed Marcus with a look of mutual understanding, "Imagine what would happen if he devoted them all to your armada. You would have the Turian Hierarchy, as you so desperately want."

_The greatest military power in the galaxy. Only rivalled by the Systems Alliance. The turians have twice the number of ships in their navy, and way more fleets. They have more troops, more discipline, and have fought galactic war since before humans discovered the world was round. To have them as part of the armada...it is just necessity._

Marcus decided in that instant.

He wanted, no, _needed _the Turian Hierarchy. Cause mercenaries weren't enough.

He needed a proper military.

"Is not about what I desperately want, Councilor," Marcus simply replied, eying him with cold intensity, "Its about what the galaxy desperately needs. The Hierarchy was going to join us, one way or another, its just that this way, you're joining us sooner, rather than later. What's the assessment on the Reaper presence in that system?"

"Catastrophic," Sparatus declared, "Our fleets have been forced onto the defensive instead of the offensive, and even that is weakening. The Reapers are simply ignoring us; they'll occassionally destroy a frigate or cruiser, but apart from that, most of their force deployment has been focused on the homeworld itself. For every Destroyer we kill, they massacre five platoons. Its a fight we're losing, and for the first time in history, Palaven is under attack, and we can't do anything about it but hit them on the back and hope it annoys them enough to draw their attention, and only temporarily."

"I can't save Palaven, Councilor. I'm no miracle worker," the N7 explained, but nodded in sympathy, "But I can extract the Primarch and get him to safety. Once the Normandy is retrofitted, which shouldn't take long, we will head for Palaven immediately. We'll stealth drive it in, stealth drive it out. I just hope the turians can hold Menae long enough for us to do so."

"We are turian, Captain," Sparatus replied, as if offended, "We hold our ground to the last breath. It is how we fight."

_I just hope Garrus isn't already dead. Or Fedorian. _He nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when Sparatus spoke up again, "The Council has also seen fit to redeem your spectre status," as he turned around, his omni-tool was already beeping with the updated credentials as Sparatus turned his omni-tool off, "All the resources of the Special Tactics and Recon branch will now be made available to you. Good luck, Spectre."

"I don't need luck, Councilor," Marcus responded with empathy, and he turned to leave, not daring to look back, "_We_ need a miracle."

Silence was his answer.

**"The Battle for Palaven was lost as soon as the Reapers attacked."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Just like Earth and Khar'Shan; homeworlds just fell like flies. I remember just how Palaven looked from my view on Menae. It...glowed bright orange. Not even Earth glowed as vibrantly."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What happened next then? I assume you landed on Menae."**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yeah, and everything went to hell. Well, not everything..."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Bet you guys weren't expecting a Kolyat/Lia pairing, were you? Hehe.**_

_**Updates will be slowing down now (yeah, I know, but now they will update even slower) because its now approaching the end of year exams, and I need to start revising for them. I'll still write when I can, but update time might take longer; it just depends. That, and Destiny comes out soon, so my weekends will be consumed by that game.**_

_**Next chapter will be Priority: Palaven. Hope you guys enjoy, as this is the official end to the mercenary arc of Holocaust, and the beginning of the Genophage Arc.**_

_**Keelah Se'lai! **_


	9. Chapter 8 Imperial Dissolution

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER EIGHT:**

**IMPERIAL DISSOLUTION**

_June 4, 2186_

_1406 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Steath Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Trebia System, Inbound for Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Battle of Palaven._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

Marcus stood in the vibrant lighting emitted by the war room table, braced against the object with his hands grasped around it with a solid grip, covered neck to toe in his Terminus armor, helmet laying ontop of its surface. Depicted above the table was a holographic representation of the turian homeworld of Palaven; and in constantly switched from the original turian positions, to their current ones.

The turian fleet had been pushed away from Palaven itself and were now being repelled by a strong blockade set by the Reapers while the rest of their force assaulted Palaven. Cipritine, the planet's capital, had been reported to be in total ruins, and many cities had already fallen to the enemy onslaught. Already, Harbinger's minions were setting up concentration camps on the surface, and doubtless thousands of turians were being hordered into these camps to be transformed into husks.

Menae was one of the last turian strongholds in the Trebia System; if it fell, the whole system couldn't be held, and the turians would be forced into tactical retreat. The moon was heavily fortified, and some of the turians most elite blackwatch special ops units were defending it, along with the occassional biotic Cabal unit and some of their other elite soldiers. The turians were giving its defense everything they had, and the fleet was insistent on holding the moon. Its fall would not be tolerated. Could not be afforded.

And yet it was. And Marcus' mission wasn't to ensure it didn't fall.

It was to rescue a Primarch before it did.

He switched the hologram from Palaven to Menae, the planet's only natural satellite. It was quite large, but it was almost the same size as Luna, so it wasn't anything extraordinary. The moon was riddled with numerous black dots; the dots of numerous turian military bases, airfields and anti-ship and anti-aircraft emplacements. Some of these were now smoking blimps, their fires long having died out due to the moon's lack of an atmosphere. Reaper Destroyers moved along its surface, along with the occassional Troop Carrier deploying husks. The ruins of crashed turian warships could be found along its marred, cratered surface, and it showed the brutality of war. He wondered how many turian men and women were dying down there at that moment. _Too many. We fight or we die._

He waved his hand over the map, clenching it into a fist as he pulled forward, the interactive hologram pulling forward and zooming in as he did, viewing a particular turian firebase; Firebase Reach. It was serving as the FOB for the turian Army Group Menae, while the rest of the fortresses and strongholds were operations centers for seperate corps of the same army group. It was a coordinated defense, but the turian line was quickly collapsing. For all their military discipline and brilliant tactics, it meant nothing in the face of an enemy who read you like a book. _They know every tactic before you coordinate it, your every move before you even think it. The Reapers have them checked at every intersection._

His team would deploy via shuttle just outside the firebase, where they would proceed to lift the Reaper advance on their rear, and open up communications with their CO. Through that, they would locate the Primarch and launch a quick search-and-rescue op. The Reaper presence at the front was pressuring the turian flanks, so deploying anywhere near that area was suicide; the rear was their best option. _Deploy, extract, leave. And hope to god Garrus is alright. _He thought about Palaven, and how Garrus was likely down there. He remembered back on Omega, when he reunited with the turian two years after his death.

_He was alone with just a sniper rifle, against an army of mercenaries who wanted his blood. Now the same is happening here; except its an army of husks and Reapers taller than skyscrapers, and his sniper rifle won't be able to save him. _It pained him to know his friend could be dead already, lying somewhere or being turned into a husk..._No! Garrus is a fighter; you trained him what you know. Combined with him being a turian, he's going to be perfectly fine. Just concentrate on extracting that damn Primarch. _

He really hated playing politics.

As his eyes focused on the hologram, he barely even heard the doors opening from the debriefing room. James walked through first, clad in his heavy blue armor, his Revenant holstered on his back. Keeling was close behind him, helmet pinned under one arm, her hair pinned in a ponytail as she followed behind the muscled marine. Liara wasn't far behind, and when the doors closed, the two humans and asari arrived at the front of the table, and it was then that he noticed their presence, his eyes drifting up to meet Liara's, and with a curt nod, he stood up straight, rigid as a tree trunk, hands clasped behind his back.

"You three are probably wondering why we're heading for Palaven. Well's here why," he stated, motioning his head to the still holographic image of Firebase Reach, "We're going to be landing on Menae; this is in no way a reinforcement of the Reaper positions; this is a lost battle, and we all know it. Hell, Councilor Sparatus, the person who gave me this mission, knows it. But if we turn the left cheek, we'll lose our only hope of getting the Hierarchy's support for the armada. Which is why we're here. We have to play politics." He heard James moan, while Liara smiled and Keeling remained silent, eyes steely. Marcus shook his head, finding himself agreeing with Vega's assessment of the situation.

"Trust me, its not my idea of waging war. But we need to extract a high value target. More specifically, a turian Primarch. He's due to appear at the war summit, and if he doesn't appear, we lose the support of the turians, and therefore, the volus. Those are two races we cannot afford to lose in this war, so extracting Fedorian is a number one priority. Cortez will drop us down the rear of this base," he pointed a finger at the assigned part of the moon, "We'll link up with the turian commander, and find out the Primarch's location. We will advance towards him, pick him up, and quickly extract. We are not here to hang around. Remember; this is an extraction op, and nothing else."

"Shepard, if we're landing on Palaven..." Liara piped up, and she seemed to hesitate with her words, "What about Garrus? He could be down there! We can't just leave him behind."

"If we come across him, which is unlikely, that'll be a bonus," Marcus declared, looking downtrodden, ""I...if not, I...don't know Liara. We can't afford detours here. But for Garrus...we'll do what we can. Maybe establish some communications." _Or we can just leave. This war's too important for me to be searching an entire planet for one turian who just happens to know me. _

_But its Garrus...what if it was Tali down there?_

The answer to that was obvious. But he wasn't willing to face it just yet. _We'll cross that bridge when we reach it._ "Look, the point is that we need to quickly land and then be gone just as quickly. We are not here to help them."

"Why not? Those soldiers are being slaughtered down there, loco," James stated, leaning against the table to emphasize his point, "We can't just leave them to die!"

Marcus turned to them, eyes ablaze, "I would if I could! But we are a four man squad, and would not be much reinforcement to them. Besides, what is the point? The battle was lost before it began. The Reapers have the numbers, the firepower and the intelligence. How can you rout them when they don't feel fear? How can you crush their flank when they don't have one? How the fuck can you outnumber them, when they outnumber simply by being bigger!" he slammed his fist on the table, "Again, this isn't about what we want. The hardest decisions are not the easy ones, and that's something I've come to learn. That _you've _come to learn. And if we don't rescue this Primarch, more soldiers like them will die; followed by the entire _turian species._ Understood?"

James reluctantly nodded, still not liking the circumstances but understood just how futile such bravado would be in the face of such a vast enemy. Marcus gave a curt nod in return, showing he appreciated James' acknowledgement, and understood his predicament. He turned back to the table, eying all four of them, "We are pretty much going to be dropping into the middle of a battlefield; so no funny business. No banter, no fuckin around; we move as a team, and as a cohesive, disciplined unit. We are soldiers from here on out; you read me?"

All three nodded, Keeling's stare always remaining cold and absorbant. _Being an N7, I'm not surprised. She's the most composed, the most competent, the most disciplined. The one who follows orders, and knows the horrors of the battlefield. Once upon a time, I was just like her. _The thought made him sigh. _Then I became a Spectre. _It felt different to be a spectre now; now it just didn't feel as good, because anyone would do as you told them to anyway out of fear of the Reapers. Abusing his powers didn't have any fun in it anymore. _Still gets me discounts though._

"Excellent," he declared, picking up his helmet from the table and slotting it over his head, hearing it click into his place over his head. Quickly checking that his HUD was active, he turned to the team, seeing they had put on their helmets as well, fastening them as they did, "Down to the Shuttle Bay people," he commed Samantha's terminal in the CIC, "Traynor, inform Cortez we're on our way and to prep the shuttle for combat insertion. Joker, get us as close as you can without being spotted."

A duo of 'yes captain's' came from both Samantha and Joker, but the spectre barely noticed as he moved to the front of the group, taking the lead as they all headed for the elevator, prepped for the imminent battle ahead.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1418 hours._

_Gun Emplacement E, Rearguard Position, Firebase Reach, Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Siege of Menae. _

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

"Focus your fire on that gap!"

"I need support!"

"Grenade! Plug that hole! Someone get me a damn medic!"

"INCOMING!"

Marcus moved forward as the gun emplacement, a turian thermal-optimized heavy machine gun, coughed out and endless storm of high velocity rounds, tearing through what seemed to be an endless swarm of husks and cannibals as they tried to overwhelm their position. James manned the position, with a turian shouting targets into his ear. Nearby, Keeling pulled out a grenade and tossed it, watching it detonate later and kill five other husks that James failed to vanquish. One turian attempted to move forward, but a harvester appeared and bombarded his position, ripping the soldier apart and leaving only blue viscera on the spot he had originally occupied.

Anothe turian lay nearby, a medic tending to him, while Liara covered their position with a stream of biotic assaults. Marcus threw in the occassional warp field, while his mattock picked and located targets, taking them out one by one. He lay behind a piece of twisted metal that had been damaged in a harvester attack, while Keeling lay prone nearby, and Liara not far from her, using a natural crater for cover in her prone state.

As he fired another shot, a missile streaked from behind him and impacted the wreathing mass of husks, blasting them apart from the blast. The turian yelled in triumph, and Marcus couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he popped out of cover one more, landing a clean shot through an approaching cannibal's head.

Cortez had dropped them off not too long ago, and it had been a bloodbath. The turians were in the middle of being overwhelmed and were exhausted when they arrived, and ever since then, the Reaper forces had been intent on attacking their position. The gun emplacement almost never stopped firing, and the turians were starting to become too tired to even stand; but they soldiered on, just like all soldiers did.

He watched Keeling fire a long burst from her rifle, and Liara cough a burst from her SMG. They were going to start running low soon, but they couldn't say the same for the Reapers; they seemed to have an endless supply of troops to just throw at them. _I'm surprised they haven't just sent a Destroyer to just wipe us out by now..._

"Captain Shepard," a familiar turian voice called over the radio, and he immediately commed it, listening in and preparing a response, "What's the situation in the rear?"

"Its pretty bad, General Corinthus," Marcus replied, noting the name of the commanding officer of Firebase Reach and its surrounding forces, "We're going to run low soon, we've taken heavy casualities, and they won't stop coming. Either we get reinforcements, or an airstrike, or nothing."

Before the General could reply, a sing-song voice sounded over the comm, interrupting the turian commander, "Don't worry, guys. You just happen to have a generous pilot willing to dish out some pain for you. Its on the house."

Never in his life was he more relieved to watch the Normandy's blue and white hull loom over them, its gun baring down on the helpless husks below. The ship-to-ship gun batteries dropped death upon them, their impacts shaking the ground with each impact, but absolutely shredding the enemy. And, he might have been hallucinating, but it seemed the horde was actually retreating. _Maybe they've had enough? Or maybe they're rallying for another attack..._Husks weren't intelligent whatsoever, so they only had one tactic; maul your enemies and use sheer numbers to overwhelm them. Any other tactics was too advanced for them. _I guess that's the one advantage we have over them; brains. _The Reapers are practically undefeatable in space, but on the ground? They could be defeated, as was seen now.

_But even then we needed the Normandy to thin out their numbers. What if the Normandy hadn't been present, or couldn't out of worry of being spotted? What would have happened then? _They would have surely been overrun, for sure. And the firebase behind them wouldn't know it until husks were going from bunker to bunker, massacring and mauling the wounded and the unprepared.

He gave a salute in the direction of the frigate, knowing full well the pilot couldn't see it, "Thanks Joker. I owe you one."

"I'll make sure to cash in," Joker quipped before cutting the line, and the Normandy shot back up and disappeared into the space battle above; turian frigates desperately wrestling for control over the moon with Reaper Destroyers and the lightly armed Troop Carriers; a fight they were, of course, losing._ Most powerful military in the galaxy...and even the turians can't beat them. I can understand why the Council's lost hope. _He shook his head, angered at that idea. _That doesn't justify cowardice! They are too busy hiding behind their own borders, hoping the threat will go away. Will looky here Sparatus! You did that, and now the turian people are paying the price. Your homeworld is burning as you pay the price._

"Thank you Captain," one turian sergeant thanked, Marcus turning around to see the man holding a wet cloth over his face, having suffered third-degree burns from a nearby explosion, "I thought for sure they'd overwhelm us. Never seen such a...persistent enemy."

Marcus nodded to him, slamming in a fresh thermal clip as he signalled for his squad to regroup on him, "They'll be back, sergeant. And when that time comes, you won't be able to hold them off here," he pointed to the rear gate, where it was heavily fortified by a barricade, gun emplacements flanking it, and multiple vantage points, "The narrow path leading up to the rear gate will allow you to catch them in a chokepoint; fall back to that position and hold it."

"Yes sir," the turian saluted, before limping away, rallying his men behind him. Marcus nodded to him sympathetically, having seen the look of defeat in the man's eyes as he saw the large amounts of turian dead lying on the ground, either riddled with bullets and mauled by husks ripping them apart. _You never get used to seeing death. Not even soldiers; we just pretend to be unfazed by it._

Marcus turned back towards his squad, who had been in the process of reloading their weapons he turned around, "Hope you guys aren't exhausted, because this is only going to get worse, I can gather."

"Please Loco," James scoffed, breathing in shallow intakes of air, "I've fought battles way longer than this, and far more taxing."

"Somehow I doubt that," Marcus deadpanned, shaking his head as his expression remained cold and steely, turning to Keeling, "Keeling?"

"I'm sweating, and ready to sweat some more, captain," the N7 stated, snapping a firm salute, "N7s don't cry and hide meekly in a corner, sir. You of all people should know that."

"Excellent," he stated hastily, turning to his asari companion, "How 'bout you, Liara?"

"Tired, but still going," Liara commented, letting a light grin cross her face, "Could be worse for wear; we did just fight off a horde of husks."

He nodded to her, before turning around and making a jog to the rear gate, hoping to link up with this Corinthus and get some info on the location of Fedorian. His team followed behind him without a word needing to be said, their expressions turning from ones of amusement to ones of seriousness. He gave the occassional cursory nod to some of the turian soldiers as they walked past, but aside from that, he was utterly silent.

He found his gaze drifting upwards every once and a while. Palaven loomed over them, being almost the exact same size as Earth. The planet that would normally be a combination of dark green and grey was now alight with orange, giant patches of it plastered over the planet's surface, untold amounts of death and destruction raging upon it. He could see Reapers coming and going through the planet's atmosphere, either attempting to engage the entrenched turian fleet over Menae or descending onto Palaven; Marcus had no doubt that if the Reapers sent even a quarter of their force, they would easily crush the turian fleet; he knew that, and he also knew that Harbinger was just playing with them. _Letting us believe we've gained the upperhand, and later it'll show that we never had the upperhand at all, and the Reapers are simply superior in every way. Reaper arrogance at its best._

He found himself reminded of Sun Tzu, and how all the man's brilliant tactics and strategies would be completely irrelevant in the face of the Reapers. All except one. _Know your enemy, and know yourself, and you'll always be victorious. _That was true enough; he knew the Reapers better than anyone, and he knew the extent of his own abilities quite well, but he was yet to be victorious. _It'll take a miracle before we gain a victory over them. Or just a shit load of firepower._

His view of Palaven was obstructed as a new shadow cast itself slowly over them, and he watched as the bulky, heavily-armoured form of a turian heavy cruiser glided past them in complete silence, moving to join a battlegroup of frigates not too far ahead. He wondered how many men and women manned its decks, and how they'd all be dead sooner or later. _The Reapers leave nothing standing; total destruction. Complete eradication. As Palaven burns, they are wiping turian history from existence, piece by piece. An entire people._

He imagined the same was happening on Khar'Shan. And on Earth. Entire histories being burnt to the ground, and there was nothing he could do but keep building his armada.

Reaching the gate, he commed the gatekeeper to open it. It took a couple of seconds, but the gate did collapse forward and open, three turian marines coming out from behind the steel walls with phaeston assault rifles at the ready, their helmets concealing their features. Upon seeing however, they lowered their weapons, and moved to the side, and Marcus and his team quickly moved past and into the firebase; as they did this, the turians were already bringing the gate back up, and by the time they were moving into the main base, the gate was sealed shut, and the turians moving back to their posts.

Marcus took in the features of Firebase Reach itself; it wasn't anything fancy, and mostly consisted of portable bunkers and barricades and watch towers. The designers of the firebase had chosen its position well, as the crater it was built in gave it natural walls to protect itself from enemy forces, and any entrances were narrow and claustrophobic, meaning that they could be used to bring the enemy into choke points and dispatch them; those areas could, and were, sealed up with barricades and gun emplacements. Overall, Firebase Reach had the advantage of good positioning to aid its defense.

Crates lay around the open space, with weapons stacked against them; grenades, rifles and pistols, sniper rifles and shotguns, numerous heavy weapons and even packets of thermal clips. One bunker was loaded full of armor, and the base's armourer seemed to be hard at work mending a piece of light armor that had been scarred on its upper right chestplate. Numerous other bunkers were scattered along the base's perimeter, all with their own purpose. The armoury was located on the left of the rear entrance, and the medical bunker was on the right, which was currently overflowing and even had wounded soldiers lying outside waiting for treatment, covered in gunshot wounds or claw marks, and others drenched in their own blue blood.

There was the quarters were off-shift troopers went to rest, but it was completely empty, given the turians could afford to let their men sleep while the Reapers were constantly assaulting their walls. Black scorch marks potmarked the ground from back to front, showing signs of bombardment from harvesters, and from where he stood, he could see the massive barricade at the front of the base that served as the front entrance; a large, six meter high wall of titantium with a ladder leading to the top and a 30mm turian heavy turret mounted ontop, and a blast door sealed shut in the middle; ontop were five turians firing down below, with a single trooper mounting the turret, the weapon causing the whole barricade to vibrate with every shot, and letting out a sizzle of energy as it dispatched the thermal clip before continuing to fire.

Marcus continued to take in all these details as he located the Operations Center and headed for it. He could see from outside that there was a turian in orange/brown medium body armor leaning over a holographic war table like the one on the Normandy, and two subordinates flanked him, wearing light to medium armor similiar to his, but both brown and grey in Hierarchy colors. Marcus, ignoring the guards posted outside the bunker, moved past them and into the bunker, insistent on meeting this General Corinthus. He had been introduced to him over the radio when they first landed, which had been a zone full of husks that had forced Cortez to drop them off and then bug out, but never actually met the man. Now he could get things sorted out. Liara, James and Keeling followed behind him, all of them remaining ever silent.

He came to stand behind the war table, holstering his mattock as his hands landed at his side, waiting for the man in orange armor, who was obviously Corinthus, to finish handing out his orders.

The turian didn't even turn to the man on his left as he pointed a clawed finger at a place on the map, motioning to what looked to be a communications tower that was flashing red on the map, "Spirits, Sergeant Barnus, I don't care how you do it, but I want that damn comms tower operational. How the hell are we meant to coordinate a defense if we can't even contact the other firebases? We might as well be flaying our arms around wildly. Take your squad, get to that comm tower, and get it fixed. I know its swarming with Reaper activity, but we can't afford to be fighting blind here. Do what you need to do. Now get to it."

The sergeant snapped a firm salute, yelling 'yes sir!' before jogging down the steps, retrieving his vindicator and then yelling orders over his radio, running off towards the western entrance. Corinthus, ever focused on his battle map, once again didn't turn, his finger gliding to a map of the base, where it landed over an image of the front barricade, "Sergeant Tobestk, our men on that wall are getting exhausted and the Reapers will be sending fresh reinforcements soon. Take your men and reinforce Staff Sergeant Egnalianus' position. On the double-quick." Tobetsk snapped a salute of his own, before muttering a 'sir' and rushing off towards the barricade, weapon in hand and squad falling in behind him. Before Marcus could even so much as open his mouth, the general spoke first, his hand sliding over the map to move it across to another area.

"Captain Shepard," he greeted with what sounded like relief in his tone, "Heard you were coming; ArchGeneral Victus informed us as much. I didn't believe it though; thought you'd have your own problems, but its good to see you really are here to help. As I told you over the radio, my name is General Manipia Corinthus."

Marcus tensed up at the word help, and gulped down the sense of regret he felt building in his mind, "With all due respect Corinthus, we aren't here to provide support. Councilor Sparatus gave me an important mission that requires immediate attention. Galactic stability and its continued survival is at risk."

Corinthus seemed to also tense up at that, his hands ceasing to move upon Marcus' words. For a second he thought he'd receive a verbal beating, but the man simply continued on, the relief gone from his tone, showing how defeated he must have been to hear that no help was coming, and that even the Hero of the Citadel couldn't help them, "Well, if the Council says its important enough to send one of their spectres, I can't exactly tell you to go to hell. I'll do what I can for you, but with our communications down, that isn't much."

"We need to find Primarch Fedorian," Marcus stated, straight and to the point, "He's needed for the War Summit in the fight against the Reapers. I'm building an armada, and I need your people to be part of it; only the Primarch can ensure that. Our intel says he's on Menae and in need of extraction."

It was then that Corinthus completely froze up, and Marcus didn't like that at all. The man had ceased all movement and for a few tense seconds, nothing was said. After however, Corinthus finally turned towards him, the turian's green eyes meeting Marcus' with a look of regret, "I..." he gulped, before turning back to his console, "I'm sorry Captain, but your intel is outdated. Primarch Fedorian is dead, same as his wife, the Metarch. Their shuttle was shot down as they tried to leave the moon; apparently they were trying to link up with Irix's flagship, the Solemn Reaper, but were spotted by a Reaper Destroyer and blown up. I'm sorry, but the Hierarchy has no Primarch or Metarch to give."

Marcus was too shocked for words, but he did not it show on his face. _The Primarch is dead? His wife too? Now what the fuck am I supposed to do? Without a leader, the Hierarchy will have noone to rally behind, which means no turians in the armada. Goddamn it, I need them! There has to be another way to get their support!_

"I'm sorry to hear that," Marcus stated, sighing heavily, "I heard he was a good man." _Which is a load of bullshit; I heard nothing of the sort. But sympathy, even where it is fake, will be useful now. _He cringed at those thoughts, which he found himself doing lately. _What the fuck is wrong with you? I can understand needing to do anything to get turian support, but fake sympathy? You've always been about the facts. _

"And brave. Politically, and militarily. The man committed forty years to the turian military. He once held the rank of ArchGeneral before giving it to his secretary, Adrien Victus. He would have made an outstanding diplomat. Our people mourn over his loss," the man froze again, but this time broke it instantly by slamming his fist into the table, "This battle's already taken enough of our spirit from us, but the troops didn't need to see their own Primarch's shuttle blown out of the sky. Might as well have hammered a nail into our coffin, as I believe the human saying goes."

Marcus nodded, finding himself regretting Fedorian's death more and more with everything detail. _Damn it, this guy sounds like he would have been just my kind of politician; no nonsense, straight to the point and getting shit done. If he had been the turian councilor instead of Sparatus, maybe we'd be more ready than we are now. But now Fedorian's dead, and my hands are currently empty of a Primarch. _"So what's next? I know this might seem insensitive General, but I can't leave Menae empty handed. The war summit is practically hanging on a turian presence. Is there anyway to replace Fedorian?"

It was Liara who spoke up, coming to stand on his right and behind Corinthus as she spoke to Marcus, "The turian government uses a succession system, and it provides very clear lines of promotion."

Marcus frowned as he looked at her, but it was James who spoke, "So...what, like a monarchy? Kings and queens, and all that crap?"

"No, not quite," Liara corrected, "That's based on the family members succeeding them, which is not at all the case with the turian system. Since they are militarist, their line of succession is based on whoever is the highest ranking member of the military at that time, ensuring a military leader. His wife would then become the Metarch, just like a monarchy. But because that's conflicting between the Didact of the Navy and the ArchGeneral of the Army/Marines, they do a periodic basis. One election will be navy, the next will be army, and so on."

Corinthus nodded at her explanation, bracing against the table with his arms, "That's correct. And this election period this time is army based. Which means..."

Marcus remembered just who the head of the army was, and that Corinthus had mentioned him before, "Wait, that means ArchGeneral Victus is the next Primarch. You mentioned him before."

Corinthus looked very uncertain at that point, and Liara let out an exhale of breath. Marcus exchanged looks between them, both of them seeming to know something he didn't. Seeing his look of confusion, Liara shyly rubbed the back of her neck, turning to him, "His...name...crossed my deck once or twice."

"Considering all forces in the army branch answer to him, there isn't a single turian in existence who doesn't know him," Corinthus piped up, "Lifelong military, gets results, and popular among his troops is some of the words you could use to describe him. Then you reach military command, and that's when the complaining starts; only Primarch Fedorian seemed to tolerate him. He has a...reputation...for playing loose with accepted strategy."

"That would appear to be quite the understatement, if any of my intel serves me right," Liara stated.

Corinthus nodded, her words managing to get a vain chuckle out of him, "On Taetrus, during the uprisings, his squad discovered a salarian spy ring about the same time the turian separatists did. Rather than neatralize the ring, he fell back; even sacrificed valuable installations and bases to the separatists as he did. Then the rebels attacked the salarians, and when they had both worn each other out, Victus moved back in and not only took back the forts and bases, he also defeated the rebels and the spy ring in one attack; didn't lose _a single man._ The men thought he was a genius and a hero, but command thought he had played the game recklessly, and had gambled too much for the outcome to be worth it. Other words, it was bold, but wild behaviour doesn't get you advanced up the meritocracy. But it didn't matter; he ended up commanding the entire army regardless, and now he's Primarch."

_A bold, reckless military commander who inspires loyalty in his troops, gets the job done and has spent his life in the military. This is the kind of man I can tolerate. Primarch Victus; even has a nice ring to it. _"I need to find Victus now and extract him. Who's next in line as ArchGeneral?"

Corinthus scoffed, "Unlike the succession for the Primarch position, succession for ArchGeneral isn't as easy, especially when you have seven different field generals, like me, that are eligble for the position. Usually the ArchGeneral chooses, but I doubt he's going to have much time for that. And especially not with our comms down."

"You don't know where he is?" Marcus asked, confused at how you could lose your commander's position.

"He's constantly moving from base to base. Normally he'd inform us of such movements, but because the comms are down..." he didn't need to finish that thought as he could see the recognition in Marcus' eyes, "But hopefully Sergeant Barnus will be getting that problem fixed quite soon. We should have comms up and working soon, and then we can discern ArchGeneral Victus' position."

Marcus nodded, but as if excellently well-timed, the console beeped, and Corinthus hit an icon that displayed Barnus' face on his omni-tool, "What is it, Sergeant?"

Streaks of gunfire could be seen in the background, and Barnus' response was hurried, his helmet cam shaking with his head as he ran, "Our position was overrun! They came out of nowhere! They were being lead by a Marauder! We need to fall back, General! The comm tower isn't operational!"

The turian general's fist once more impacted the table in frustration, but he suddenly looked at Marcus with a brief instance of relief, letting his clenched fist drop to his side, "Retreat to a suitable distance Barnus, and hold position. Reinforcements are headed your way." He then cut the comm.

"And I wonder who they could be?" Marcus joked, already pulling his mattock out to drop into his hands.

"You wanted comms, now you get to acquire them. I just hope your team has an engineer."

"N4s were given basic combat engineering skills in our class to make us able to perform EOD and weapon disassembly," he turned towards Keeling, "Meaning you are up. Mine are a bit rusty."

She gave him a curt nod, and said nothing else as he turned back to Corinthus, another questioning lingering on his mind. His eyes met the side of the general's head as he spoke, "General, just what is a marauder?"

Again with that tensing; the turian seemed almost stone-like now, his body refusing to show any sign of life in it. He did not flinch, or even blink. He just seemed to stare at the table, before his head drooped low, and he sighed heavily, "They are...Reaper...abominations. Perversions. Husks, as you know them, but...not quite the usual type. They only started popping up after they began occupying Palaven; before that was just Cannibals, Harvesters and your standard husk, along with some explosive husks, these floating tanks, and walking tanks. We didn't know who they had converted to make them until...we took a look at their face..."

Marcus knew where this was going, and his serious expression took on a much more sober look.

Corinthus just continued, "Our own people...the turian species...is that what fate awaits us if we lose this? To be turned into those...things? These...marauders?"

"We'll be alot worse if we lose. So don't," Marcus stated sternly, gripping Corinthus' shoulder with a vice like grip, "Those husks were once my people. The Cannibals were once batarians. Yes, those marauders may have once been turians, but are they anymore? No. Which means you kill them. Don't let the Reapers pervert and use their bodies any longer than they deserve; put their bodies to rest."

"You're right. And we have killed many of them," Corinthus stated, "Its just...they don't just look like us, they act like us. They're more intelligent than the other husks; they actually...they actually possess some sort of tactical mindset. We've tried flanking actions, but they seem to counter it easily. They don't just charge in either; and we've seen them leading other husks before. Our theory is that the Reapers use them as ground force commanding units; let them lead troops into battle. I think that's why they're allowed...some...intelligence. Hell, troops have reported them using some kind of strange ability to bring dead husks back to life. And they use phaeston assault rifles..._my people's _assault rifles. Its like the Reapers are mocking us."

_Everything they do is to mock us. The fact that they're letting us believe we've had some sort of victory is just part of their game of mocking. Soon they will attack, Menae will be overwhelmed, and every single turian on his moon will become another marauder or food for a Cannibal. Either way, the Reapers are just playing with you. Its all a game to them. Why?_

_Because why would gods go to war with organics?_

Then he remembered the Reaper corpses Joker had pointed out as they exited through the relay. The two Reapers he destroyed when he blew up the Bahak Relay. The Human-Reaper his team killed in the Collector Base. Sovereign, who had been killed by the Normandy SR-1 three years ago. The thought made him smile behind his helmet. _I've seen gods die. My team has made gods bleed. The turians have shown that the military strategists of the galaxy were able to beat gods; wound them, kill them, spread them. These gods can die. And we will make them bleed every drop of blood they have._

He nodded, deciding it would be best if he did not say anything. Instead, he simply turned around, weapon still in hand, as he prepared to leave, his voice ringing out behind him, "We'll bring that comms tower online General, and once Primarch Victus is extracted, we will show the Reapers what the consequence of arrogance brings them in this cycle. It may have worked for the Protheans, but it will not work on us. I promise you that, General." And with that, he was gone, Liara, James and Keeling following behind him and spreading out, working like a well-oiled machine as they converged on the western entrance.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1442 hours._

_Firebase Communications Tower, Western Position, Firebase Reach, Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Siege of Menae. _

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling._

The area surrounding the communications tower was practically empty; apart from the walls that made up the edge of the crater that Firebase Reach was in, and the tower itself at the end of the very wide open area, there was just nothing but a few rocks and some moon dirt. A crack ran along the middle of the area, while a rocky outcrop towered over them to provide a good sniping spot, but that was it. Empty of all inanimate objects.

But not quite as empty of _animate _objects. Especially not of the howling, hissing, growling, nightmarish kind.

Marcus and his team came up behind Sergeant Barnus and his squad, who looked much smaller than a squad now; they had five men at most left, including Barnus, all of who looked injured in some way, some of them limping while others cradled broken bones or open, festering wounds glistening in blue blood. They had discarded their rifles for SMG sidearms, each of them firing into the horde of husks, at least ten of them, plus five cannibals, and what Marcus assumed was the marauder, up back. Barnus practically rushed past Marcus, followed by his troops as they made their retreat. Marcus was lightning quick however, and grabbed hold of Barnus and shoved him forwards, fixing him with an icy glare.

Barnus looked at him in terror, wandering if he were crazy, "What are you doing, trooper? You heard General Corinthus; your orders were to hold position until reinforcements arrived. We are here, and I see the position you were meant to be holding is currently occupied by a smug looking marauder."

"What the hell who were we meant to do?" Barnus spat, his men, unable to proceed past Marcus' squad, turning and opening fire at the incoming enemy, with some form of discipline still instilled at them as they picked and chose their targets and covered their flanks, "Holding that position was spirits-be-damned suicide! They had already overwhelmed, I didn't see any point in hanging around!"

Marcus jabbed an angry finger at the western gate, "Your routing would have left the place completely unprepared for a Reaper flanking movement; you could have gotten everyone killed, you bloody fool." And without any further words, he threw Barnus aside, brought his mattock to bare, and opened fire.

His squad quickly joined in, and together they mowed down the ten husks converging on them. Barnus squad was saved, all except one, who had been too far afront and had been tackled to the ground by four husks, who then proceeded to rip him into bloody ribbons while he screamed. And by the time James shredded the four husks with his revenant, there was nothing remotely recognizable about the turian. He was glad that smell didn't carry in space, or he imagined that body would have left even a hardened woman like Liara, puking; bits of blue muscle exposed to space and face caved in from all angles, it was a gruesome sight.

It certainly didn't boost morale in Barnus' squad, and they quickly joined Barnus on the ground as they cowered. Marcus knew what Garrus would call them. _Turians stand firm in the face of a strong adversary, just as we did in the face of the krogan. Any turian who abandons his post is not just a coward, he's a disgrace to his people, and that's the worst reputation you can have as a turian. That's why turian cowards don't exist. _Oh, but they do, Garrus. He was looking at them right now.

He turned back around in time to see Keeling finish off the last husk and for Liara to launch a singularity into the midst of five cannibals approaching them. The twisted batarians barely got off a shot before they were sucked in by the distorted gravity, and to conclude the array of dazzling lights and dark energy, Marcus charged up a warp field and threw it dead center, detonating the singularity, and atomizing the cannibals into nothing.

That left the Marauder.

Unlike the Cannibal, it was quite obvious what the creature used to be; the form of a turian could easily be made out in its cybernetic visage. What used to be the skin, or in a turian's case, the plates, was now metallic alloy and cybernetics, all meshed together; the organics could not be seen as its entire body seemed to be made of full body, dark black and grey armor, and its eyes had been replaced and swapped with cybernetic optics that glowed a dim blue. The frills of a turian were now extended outwards and replaced, again, with metallic alloy, and it made robotic whirs that sounded scarily like a geth. Its mouth was gone and replaced with more metal plates, and it wielded a phaeston assault rifle in its grip. And when he fired at it, it seemed to possess kinetic shielding, blue energy popped into existence before it, absorbing the impact.

However, the marauder by itself was still no match for Marcus' squad, and both himself and James ripped into it, quickly eradicating its shields and hot lead slammed and shredded its inadequate armor, the huskified turian giving a final mechanical whir as its head whipped back from Marcus' mattock hitting it, causing it to fall backwards, inactive. James approached it and finished the rest of his clip into its head, ensuring its death before reloading. He nodded to Marcus as the spectre walked past, holding his weapon up with one hand as he approached the comms tower, squad falling in behind.

The tower itself wasn't very complex; it was a basic box structure with a dish towering above it, and a service ladder leading to the top where a maintenance console was seated; down below sat another console, which was used for manual transmission. He turned to Keeling, motioning to the ladder, "Get to it, trooper. Get that thing online."

She was already up the first rung by the time he finished his second sentence, weapon holstered on her back and rapidly climbing. But as they turned, they found themselves facing a Reaper counterattack led by two marauders, and backed by multiple cannibals, husks, four scions, and a few abominations. Thinking quickly, he motioned to the many rocks around them, "Take cover and pick your targets; shoot to kill."

The next few minutes were just that; James took cover behind a particularly big rock, taking two grenades from his bandolier and tossing them over his cover to land in the vanguard of the Reaper advance, tearing apart two cannibals and a few more husks before they were able to return fire. Following up his explosive assault, he took aim with his light machine gun and thumbed the trigger, drilling fire along the entire Reaper line and taking down husks by the fives and sixes before return fire from a nearby scion took chunks of his rock and forced him back behind it.

Liara quickly followed up, gunning down an approaching cannibal with her SMG before letting out a short battle cry and letting loose a barrage of warp fields that sent one charging abomination flying back into the Reaper line, its body exploding into bright, orange light and atomizing a few more husks and more abominations.

Marcus let loose with a biotic shockwave, before rapidly firing his mattock and numerous different targets. His shockwave cut a neat line down the line of husks before them, almost completely decimating them, while sending two abominations off the side of the cliff face and down below to explode harmlessly. His mattock managed to hit one cannibal in the head and blow its 'brains' out, while another shot blew another cannibal's knew to shreds, but not killing it; Liara did that. The rest of his fire was focused on a marauder flanking James, which eventually ended in the marauder being spotted by James, and being filled with bullets.

Enemy return fire blew his shields to hell before he even got to cover, and a shot narrowly missed his cheek, while another took him in the belly, his armor softening the impact and merely winding him as he disappeared from view. He hissed from the impact, knowing he'd have a bruise tomorrow, but softened up when he heard the familiar sound of the thump thump thump of a biotic shockwave shoot past him, the dark orange biotic color compared to the normal blue telling him it had been a scion who had attacked him. _God, I had enough of those things when we fought the Collectors. Now I have to spend a whole war fighting them._

Minutes went by as they held against the Reaper assault, but it was becoming too much. For every husk they killed, three more replaced them, and for every marauder that was blown to pieces, a scion narrowly killed him or an unseen abomination. Liara was clearly starting to get tired, but was too tough to show it, and James looked to be running short on ammo as he had resorted to using his shotgun to blast away at any enemies daring to get close enough.

"Keeling! How's that tower comin!"

Keeling's response was clipped and quick, "You picked a good time sir; just finished! The comm tower should be back online! I'm patching you through to Corinthus."

The turian general's voice quickly filled his head piece, "Our comms are back up, Shepard. From what our field commanders have reported, ArchGen-_Primarch _Victus," he corrected himself, "Has, or rather, had, situated himself in Firebase Veracity."

"Had? I don't like playing the pronoun game, Corinthus. Just give me the facts."

"Victus reported that a massive enemy counterattack was beginning to overwhelm their defenses a few minutes ago. Says he'll hold out for as long as possible, but he'll need to retreat soon. That was the last anyone heard of him."

"Just give me the coordinates and we'll be the rescue team. _Victus cannot die. _You hear me? He is the future of the turian race, so he must be protected at all costs," Marcus stated firmly, wincing as a bullet pinged off his rock, reminding him of their predicament as Keeling slid into cover next to him, exchanging fire with the enemy, "We could also do with alittle assistance. Reaper forces are currently giving us a hammering."

"I can help with that."

Corinthus remained silent. And Marcus smiled...grinned, actually.

A sniper shot wizzed by, followed by another, and then another. As he peeked over cover, he saw husk after husk fall, and then watched further as another round, this one seeming to be explosive, tore into the central head of a scion, blowing its upper body apart. This action followed with the other three scions, and then the non-explosive parade of sniper shots continued.

"You just going to sit there, or am I going to be taking all the kills today, Shepard? Wouldn't want your meager reputation further, would you? The chicks already love me more...lets not start with you forgetting how to kill."

Marcus must have sounded like a sadistic maniac when he started chuckling as he fired at the enemy, but he didn't care. He raised from cover, his team also doing so, his mattock placed against his shoulder and letting loose. With the sniper support they were getting, they easily dispatched the enemy, and when all was done, Marcus reloaded his mattock, and turned around, still grinning.

Remember that outcropping? The one perfect for sniping? Well that's where the sniper had taken his position, leaping down from it and holstering his Reaper sniper rifle on his back, mandibles splitting into a grin behind his mask as he closed the distance between the two of them. For a moment, they simply stood there, looking at each other, with nothing to say. Then the turian spoke, seeming to examine him before their eyes met once more.

"You've gotten fat."

Marcus' grin only grew, "You're getting lazy. Saw a few of those shots miss."

"You did not."

"Maybe I did," Marcus teasingly threatened, and more silence ensued. It did not last long.

Within seconds, the two of them wrapped each other in a brotherly hug, chuckling as they slapped each others' backs. When all was done, they pulled away, the turian laughing, with a look of noticable ease in his features, which could be seen through the transparent visor.

"Garrus!" Marcus greeted, "Of all the places..."

"Well, its not quite Omega," Garrus contemplated, "But I thought it would do. Besides, you had to save my ass last time, only fair that I return the favor, even if there is a massive difference between mercenaries and cybernetic servants of killer sentient starships, and that just sounds silly."

"Its good to see you," Marcus stated, feeling his spirits lifted slightly by the turian's presence, "God knows its good see another friendly face. I just thought you'd be on Palaven."

"I was stationed on Menae when the Reapers hit. Call it extremely good luck," Garrus jested, but upon the last line his voice took on a much more somber tone, but he elected to not elaborate on it, simply turning towards Liara with a much bigger grin, "Now, I don't exactly remember these two at all, but Liara? How could I miss our...eccentric archaelogist, and Shadow Broker to match."

"Wait, Bluey is the Shadow Broker?" James stated in amazement, turning towards Liara, eyes wide, "Well well, there's something I did not know. I knew you were a badass, but you're friends with the Shadow Broker?"

"Hey. Don't forget Archangel," Garrus pointed out, waving a finger in the air to make himself known, "I took a rocket to the face, and _survived. _And I managed to piss off the Eclipse, Blue Suns and Blood Pack so much that they actually joined forces to kill me."

"And then I saved his ass," Marcus prided, "He wouldn't have lasted without me."

"I'll admit, Shepard may have provided a good distraction. But seriousy, rocket to the _face. _And I have the scars to prove it."

"Scars?" James grinned, turning towards Marcus, "Loco, I think I'm going to call Garrus 'scars' from now on."

"Bluey? Loco? Scars?" Garrus quizzed, turning towards Marcus with a raised eyebrow, "What is with these nicknames?"

"He's an eccentric young fellow," the spectre joked, shaking his head, "And a bit crooked around the head. But what can you expect from a trigger-happy grunt?"

James' protest was barely noticed, "Hey! I'm Second Lieutenant! I am no grunt!"

"Rank means little when you don't have the badassery to go with it," Garrus quipped, "I share a quarter of mine with Shepard so he doesn't feel left out, and he might have shared some of that with Tali."

"Tali?" James asked, confused, "Who's Tali, loco?"

"A friend," Marcus stated as fast as he could, not wanting to dive into that topic. _It was always ends up on her. Every single conversation..._

"Just a friend?" Garrus piped up, but Marcus gave him a death glare that told him to shut up. Taking the hint, the turian changed the subject, sighing heavily, "Well, sorry to keep the greetings short, but apart from being in the middle of a battlefield and my homeworld burning in the background, I do believe we have a Primarch to save, if I've been tuning into the right channels."

Marcus' jovial tone returned as he pushed thoughts of Tali into a special corner of his mind, "Eavesdropping on a superior officer, Vakarian? I do believe that's worthy of a courts marshall."

The turian shrugged nonchatantly, "And since when have I cared? The short answer is a rather dull affair. The long answer involves lot of turian initution, veracity and strength of wit, something humans seem to lack, being the simple creatures that you are."

"What about reach and flexibility?" Marcus teased, "And let's not forget our calibrations."

"I think we both of things we'll never let the other live down," Garrus resorted, seeing that they were both now back on the topic of joking, which was not what they wanted. Shaking his thoughts clean of jokes, the turian let his face become serene of happiness, and became the soldier that both of them had to be, and turned back towards the base, "Come on, I'll take you to Firebase Veracity. I was part of Victus' unit before it all went to hell and he sent me to scout out a retreat to Reach. Once I heard you were here, I had to help you. Now we can help each other."

Marcus nodded, "Good, then we can-"

"Captain Shepard, this is General Corinthus!" the general's voice sounded, and he sounded hurried, "You need to return to base ASAP! Reaper forces are taking the front barricade, and they're here in force! They've got a brute!"

"Copy that! We're on our way!" Marcus responded, turning to Garrus, confused, "Care to fill me in? What the hell is a brute? Another husk type?"

"One of the bigger, uglier, but stronger ones. We've got them the walking freight trains. Seen one lay waste to an entire platoon of marines," the turian gulped, clearly not enjoying the memory, "They're...krogan that have been 'taken' and turned into Reaper husks. Trick is, they aren't just krogan; they're a mix of one of them and a turian; they've got the cybernetically enhanced body of a krogan, with the tiny head of a turian; quite comical when you think about it. But they are heavily-armoured, and our weapons will be practically useless unless you aim for the head. It can take alot of damage."

Marcus knew one thing that these brutes probably couldn't handle though, "What about a 30mm heavy turret? Could a brute handle that?"

"No. That stuff is designed to shred the armor of a Mako to pieces," Garrus explained, raising an eyebrow once more at the odd question, "Why? You got a 30mm heavy turret?"

"No, but the barricade the brute is attacking does," he grinned, and Marcus immediately began running back towards the western entrance, the rest of his squad, plus Garrus, falling in behind him as they rushed to reinforce the barricade.

The western gate was opened pretty quickly, allowing his squad to rush through the encampment and reach the barricade, which was currently wreathing in activity. Turian soldiers ran along its length, but most of them were up top, raining fire down upon the enemy behind it. The 30mm Heavy Turret was manned and operating, high-velocity, pulverizer rounds shredding undoubtedably dozens of husks.

"Captain!" The turian named Tobetsk shouted across at them, waving him over, "Corinthus told us you were coming! We could use some help up top! The enemy are relentless! They're hitting us with everything they have!"

Marcus nodded and ran past the turian sergeant, letting his rifle hang at his hip as he began to climb up the ladder to the top. He concentrated on the rungs before him, so that when he emerged the enemy would be in his sights. He could see his squad beginning to climb up behind him, and he continued to climb to the top as they did.

Suddenly, he felt something warm and sticky hit the top of his helmet, and before he could look up to see what it was, he watched blue blood trickle down his visor. He looked up, and was in time to watch the shredded body of a turian soldier, his armor riddled by bullets, fall past him, thumping against the ground.

"Fuck!" one soldier shouted over the comms, "Someone get on that fucking turret! They're still coming!"

"I'll take care of that," Marcus stated, the turian turning to him in surprise, but not stopping him as he finished the climb and grabbed hold of the turret controls. He stood ontop of a rotating platform and rotated it to face below, and Marcus widened his eyes at what he saw.

The ground was _alive. _It was _moving. _Dozens of husks, pressed together, charging their barricade, trying to crawl up the walls to overwhelm the defenders. There must been half a dozen marauders up back, sniping at the men on the barricade, while numerous scions provided support. And in the middle, huge, armoured fists slamming against the wall, fists easily big enough to pick up a human and crush him/her with a single squeeze, was a brute. It was just as ugly as he thought it would be. _Talk about a disproportionate head. That head looks tiny on such a big juggernaut. _

As if sensing his presence, the brute looked up at him, and he swore he could see a smug grin in its features, followed by a voice he did not want to hear right now, _**"Shepard. You cannot hide."**_

"Who says I'm hiding, asshole?" he brought the turret down, and began cutting into the enemy, tearing husks apart by the dozens as his squad took up positions with the turians and tried to take out the marauders up back.

_**"You cannot deny your genetic destiny. Entire worlds have fallen to our will. The cycle cannot be broken."**_

"Challenge accepted," James shouted back, looking like a child with candy the way he tore into the enemy with his Revenant, screaming like a mad man. Garrus had swapped his sniper rifle for his phaeston, muttering about how 'this wasn't quite like old times' as he took down cannibal after cannibal at the back. Keeling made precision shots at the scions, while Liara shielded the remaining turian soldiers with a biotic barrier.

The brute's insistent banging on the walls really began to naw at Marcus' patience, and when it banged again, he rotated the turret downwards and held the trigger, watching, satisfied, as the huskified krogan/turian hybrid was torn asunder, bits of armor blown off as the 30mm rounds blew it apart. A final shot shredded its tiny turian head, silencing Harbinger's taunting and killing the damn thing. With the brute dealt with, Marcus turned his attention to the rest of the assault, which was overwhelming their defense.

"Marcus!" Garrus called out over the radio, pointing in the leftwards direction, "We've got gunship support!"

Marcus turned to watch as three A-67 Mantis gunships, sporting Hierarchy colors and insignia, sped towards their position, teeth bared. Their pilots navigated them into a rotational position over the area and then let it rip with their chin-mounted chain guns, easily conplimenting the turret Marcus manned, and cutting through the enemy like butter. Periodically, they would fire a salvo of missiles, the intense heat and explosions blowing apart even more of the Reaper horde. Eventually, after a few more minutes of valiantly defending the barricade from them, the Reaper forces withdrew, well, the smart ones anyway, like the marauders. The standard husks continued to suicidally charge them, but were easily taken care of. Marcus gave the pilots the thumbs up, which they seemed to understand, as a second later they could be seen spinning around and flying off towards another part of Menae.

He felt Garrus' taloned hand land on his shoulder and the spectre took the hint, dismounting the turret and coming to standard up front, his weapon once again falling into his hands. Before he could even so much as take a step towards the ladder however, he got a request from Joker for a transmission. _What? _He accepted the call, and was immediately greeted with a creeped out pilot's face appearing on his visor.

"Shepard! Thank Christ!" Joker had never looked as creeped out as he did now, and Marcus was confused as hell as to what was going on. _Why is he so creeped out? Why are the lights in the cockpit flickering? _Before he could ask, Joker continued talking, "We've got a situation here on the Normandy! I asked EDI to run a scan of the Reaper forces in the area, and she seemed to be in the middle of doing it when she just...went silent. I've tried getting her to talk Shepard, but she isn't saying anything! And a few seconds after that, everything just went haywire! We've had lights flickering throughout the ship, consoles turning on and off, life support disengaging and reengaging, and to top it all off, the stealth drive has deactivated once or twice. Adams took a few of the engineers to check it out, but EDI seems to have locked out the AI Core. We don't know what the hell is going on Shepard, and I'm scared we might lose the damn ship!"

_Fuck. This is the last thing I need. _"Do you need someone to hack into the AI Core?"

"Of course we do!" Joker sarcastically replied, "Adams and the engineers aren't _combat _engineers. They aren't trained to hack things, and none of our marine compliment know how to!"

There was only two people in his squad with that kind of experience; Keeling and Garrus. But because they needed Garrus to find Victus, it looked like the N7 was up. He turned to the SpecOps trooper, nodding to her as he talked to both her and Joker at once, "Joker, tell Cortez to get back in his shuttle and land in the base; Keeling, be there. Cortez will take you back to the ship and I want you to find someone to hack the AI Core open. Find out what the hell is wrong with EDI."

"Got it si-Shepard," she snapped a firm salute, and then slid down the ladder, disappearing below, before reappearing as she sprinted to the extraction point. Marcus turned back to his team, but before he could speak, James was already talking, seeming to observe something brutally obvious.

"Wait loco," James began, "What if this has to do with that Eva chick? I mean, your AI was fine until she came onboard. Now she's going bat shit crazy, and the AI Core won't open up for us to find out what's wrong? What if that damn synthetic has killed your AI, and is taking control of the Normandy?"

_Damn, didn't think of that. _"That AI has a name, James. Its EDI. And even if Eva is taking control of the ship, they'll now have Keeling to deal with it. She's N7, she'll deal with it. If it is Eva, I trust her to blow the thing asunder. If not, then she'll let Adams and their engineers find out the real issue. But if I were you, I'd focus on Victus; we've still got a job to do, and I'll see it done before we leave this moon," turning from the disgruntled marine, he turned to his long-time friend, feeling his eyes soften as they landed on the man he called a brother, "So, where to Garrus?"

"Firebase Veracity," the turian noted, pointing to the area beyond the barricade, "We'll follow that path. It should take us straight there."

"Great," Marcus declared, "Let's go."

They descended the ladder, and requested permission to open the gate; to which Tobestk reluctantly acknowledged, closing it quickly behind them and sealing it. With Garrus as the designated driver, Marcus let him go ahead, with the rest of the team following behind him. Marcus himself decided to tag along with his turian friend, deciding to catch up with him. It only took a couple of strides to catch up with him, and in a few moments they were walking in stride alongside one another, the rest of the squad easily falling in behind them as they traversed the rocky terrain of Palaven's moon.

He turned to the sniper, sighing as he squared his shoulders, "How far is it?"

"Should be pretty quick, unless we find trouble, which is always the case with you around," the turian joked, letting Marcus see that he had a smile behind his helmet.

Marcus could only chuckle as they slid down a ditch, continuing around a corner to another long, narrow, natural passage. Their passage was unmolested, with no apparent Reaper forces in the vicinity. Eventually, the passage took them to an open area that had a U-turn like passage; the bottom being opened up to give them a clear view of Menae's surface.

And the turian frigate that currently occupied one of its craters, flames long deprived of oxygen and non-existent, its bow smashed in from its crash to the surface, and spine cracked along the keel. One of its 'wings' was snapped off and lying absently from the ship, while the other one was broken and bent; and through the vessel's belly, was what looked to be the impact of something upon it; not a thanix, as that would leave an entry and exit wound; no, this simply had bent the hull. Marcus found out the assailant almost immediately; it was currently walking along the surface and away from them; a Reaper troop transport. Its body looked like that of a Collector's head, but with tiny legs to support it compared to other Reaper variants, and much more cumbersome. He watched as orange streaks seemed to constantly erupt from it, like projectiles from a volcano eruption, and impacted the ground; likely pods containing husks and fresh troops.

James came to stand beside him, exclaiming something in hespanic as he looked upon the crashed turian frigate, bereft of all activity, "That troop transport took down that frigate? I didn't think they had any weapons."

"They...don't," Garrus muttered, clearly disturbed by the sight as he turned away, his jovial mood suddenly dead, "Considering the hull damage, it probably just...swatted the ship out of the sky. Like a man does an insect."

"God," James said, "I...how many men were on that frigate?"

"The usual crew compliment is around...300," Garrus murmured once more, refusing to look upon the dead vessel, "And its likely none of them survived the crash."

"Reaper bastards," James said angrily, gripping his LMG with increased vigor, "You turians are giving 'em one hell of a fight, and they don't even think anything of it."

"They're the Reapers," Garrus explained, his eyes coming to meet Marcus', and then Liara's, "It took a whole fleet and then some to take down just one. Now we're learning just how tough they really are. And how tiny to them we are comparatively. Come on Marcus, we've got a Primarch to extract. I'm already reminded of my dead comrades enough in battle...I don't need to stare at that frigate any longer than I have to."

Coming to agree with him, Marcus ordered the squad to proceed, Marcus and Garrus reassuming their positions in the lead. They continued in relative silence, until Garrus stopped, eyes seeming to lose all emotion as he just looked straight up. Marcus stopped with him, knowing exactly what he was looking at, and knew how horrible it looked. But they needed to press on, and contemplating the death around them wasn't going to help. He lay a hand on the turian's armoured shoulder, who still didn't look at him, "I know Garrus. But its not help worrying about it. We need to get to Victus."

"My world. Its burning before my eyes, and I'm on this worthless moon, defending its worthless surface. The turian people weren't born on Menae. We were born on Palaven. I should be _up there_, not down here," the turian exasperated, raising a reluctant arm to point a certain orange speck, one of the largest, finger trembling, "You see that blaze of orange? The big one? That's where I was born...Cipritine. The capital."

"That's...rough," James awkwardly commented, "Got any family?"

"A father. A mother. A sister," his voice wavered, and Marcus felt the turian shudder, "And...and they're all _up there._ Dead...or alive."

The spectre felt his heart go out to his dear friend, and if they were on the Normandy, he'd take the turian to the lounge and drink their sorrows away; his about Earth and Anderson, while Garrus for his family. But they weren't; they were on the battlefield, and they had a mission to complete. Sorrow could wait. He squeezed the turian's shoulder again, and this time he did rip away his eyes from Palaven, and met Marcus', "There's nothing you can do for them right now, Garrus. What you can do is save the future of your people by getting us to this Primarch."

The turian hesitated for a second before nodding grudgingly, cradling his rifle as he nodded again, as if to convince himself, "You...yeah, you're right. I'll...my family can wait. I just hope they're okay."

"They will be. They're Vakarians," he assured him, smiling slightly, "There's no Shepard without Vakarian."

That seemed to get Garrus smiling, and he moved forward with new determination, "Damn right."

They continued on for a bit, until they had to take cover as a turian fighter was shot down and smashed into the passage ahead of them, exploding. Garrus immediately rushed up to the cockpit and tried to see if the pilot was alive, but all he was greeted by was the limp body of a turian, his head at an unnatural angle. Sighing, Garrus climbed over the fighter to the other side, mimicked by the rest of the team, and they continued forward. It was looking bleak for the turian hierarchy.

It wasn't long before they encountered a few husks, abominations and the odd cannibal, but they didn't provide much resistance, and usually came in groups of three. With no cover, both sides had nowhere to hide and merely ripped into each other, which served in his squad's favor because they had shields; the enemy didn't. So they mowed through them, thinking nothing of it as they continued towards the firebase, and towards securing their Primarch.

After dealing with the latest horde, James angrily growled, reloading his shotgun, "God I friggin hate those things. And New York is crawling with the creepy bastards? Ehhh...I should never have left Earth."

_Here we go. I swear to god, he needs to get over that resentment or we're going to have problems. _But to his surprise, it was Garrus who responded, tone clipped and calm as they pressed forward, met by no further resistance, "The fight will be everywhere, eventually."

"Leaving the fight just pisses me off!" James snarled, his caged anger deciding to unleash itself, but despite all that, Garrus remained calm and assured, never breaking.

"But you're here asking Victus to do the same thing," he responded, "Leave the fight to make nice in some...board room. Do you know how irritating and frustrating for a turian that is?"

"This summit is the only chance we've got," Marcus butted in.

"Noone's beating the Reapers alone," Liara stated, making her first statement in a while, "Noone will survive the Reapers alone."

_We fight or we die. _"Liara's right. Sometimes to win the fight, you have to leave it."

"I just hope this summit wins the fight, or at least secures future victory," Garrus remarked, shaking his head as he stole a glance at Palaven, "Or its just another turian general removed from the battle and a weaker turian army made."

They continued further, watching an ensuing battle up ahead; Destroyers were finally making push against the turian lines, and some broke through to land on the planet's surface, thanix cannons tearing into and destroying whole firebases in one hit. Oculi drones flew overhead, battling turian fighters and interceptors and coming out victorious in most of the dogfights. Huskified Harvesters patrolled overhead, praying on any shuttles that dared to get close enough to the moon. It was a slaughter house. And the Reapers were loving every second of it.

"Just look at it makes me think, loco," James piped up, "What about this summit? I mean, the _salarians_? _The asari!? _Where's the _krogan _and _batarians_? Where's the meat?"

"Its not that easy," was Marcus' simple response, one Garrus seemed to easy finish in order to quell Vega's irritation.

"The krogan have never forgiven us for the genophage," the turian explained, "And the batarians were practically destroyed when the Reapers first arrived; plus the fact that they hate humans would never work beside your people unless absolutely desperate. But as for the krogan, that might change..." the turian trailed off, looking at Marcus. The spectre knew what he was referring to, but elected to ignore it as James responded. _I just hope Wrex was able to convince them of what's at stake. If there's anyone I need the most for ground engagements, its the krogan._

"Oh, that's right; the genophage. The turians sterilized them," James seemed to say this harshly, shaking his head as he did.

"The salarians made it," Garrus countered.

"And the krogan hate them both for it," Liara ended, rolling her eyes over the pettiness, "And for good reason. I don't think I could look upon dying race unable to produce children without the fear of them dying in stillbirth or simply dying upon birth and say 'I did the right thing.' What was done to the krogan was horrible...unethical...immoral."

"That's why the salarians made it," Garrus replied solemnly, "Because they don't have a sense of morality. Or ethicality. Mordin was a perfect example. Stubborn bastard was sure the genophage was correct and always defended it. Even if the krogan are slowly going extinct from it, thousands of years later."

"So the krogan won't be joining us? Well shit," James cursed, clearly even more annoyed now at the news, "I've fought beside a krogan before; Blood Pack. Fought him during a Blood Pack raid on Fehl Prime, and then fought beside him when the Collectors hit. He was a tough son of a bitch, and he kicked those Collector's asses. Just imagine an army of them. Reapers wouldn't stand a chance."

"On the ground maybe," Garrus remarked, sighing, "But in naval combat, they will always be superior in every way."

They continued for quite a bit, their path undisturbed, and all of them silently observing the destruction above while also keeping a look out for hostiles. Soon, however, they came across what looked to be gunfire in the distance, followed by silent explosions. Garrus accessed the radio transmissions, relaying them through to Marcus' helmet.

"Pull back to the Operations Center! Form a _thakla pato _formation around the bunker! Standard line! Push 'em back! Form up, turians! Form up!"

"That's Victus," Garrus commented, suddenly sprinting down the passage, "He needs help! Thakla Pato formation is a V-like formation we use when commiting a last stand action; we only used it when we're pressed and trapped! If he's ordering its use, their perimeter must be breached! You want your Primarch? Then by the spirits, move!"

Marcus turned to his squad, "On the double-quick!" They rushed forward, weapons at the ready and prepared for combat. James looked eager, while Liara showed only a touch of fear, but Marcus and Garrus were determined, expressionless and gave off waves of professionalism that only accomplished veterans could give.

The firebase's eastern gate looked to be breached, having been torn from its hinges and tossed several meters into the base; likely by a brute. Charging inside in a standard firing line, the squad found the base overrun by Reaper troops; the steel walls had been breached and several of the bunkers looked to have been destroyed by heavy bombardment from harvesters, who were now flying off, confident they had done their job. And nearby, almost too close for comfort, was a Reaper Destroyer, at least half a mile away, and with its back turned to them, apparently firing at something in the distance.

Husks and abominations swarmed the base, with a few scions lagging behind, a platoon of cannibals, and at least three brutes pressing forward. To his trepidation, there was at least one praetorian in the center, providing suppression fire for the advancing Reaper troops while the main force was led by three marauders. There didn't seem to be any further Reaper forces, and the ground was littered with the eviscerated bodies of both husks and turians alike. And they were all advancing towards the right, where Victus and his men were holding out; reduced to platoon strength, and being converged on all flanks. The only thing that would save Victus and his men would be a miracle.

Luckily for them, Marcus Shepard was a walking miracle himself. As was the turian who had taken a rocket to the face and lived. And the Shadow Broker herself. Oh, and there was James Vega too; although he hadn't made many miracles himself. But that was besides the point. The point being: they had the enemy outflanked, and with the fact that they were (well, at least three of them) experienced Reaper killers, it would make this battle just that much easier on them.

They let the enemy advance continue until they had passed the gate, and then his squad emerged, weapons raised as they charged the enemy rear. Bringing his biotics to bear, Marcus brought one biotically fueled fist back and then sent it flying forwards, a flurry of biotic light dancing towards the scion taking up the rear's center. Liara initiated a reave technique on the right scion, a technique she had learnt recently apparently, while James' Revenant tore into the scion on the left, with the aim being to aim for its three heads.

The center scion screeched as Marcus' assault reached it, dark energy rippling around it and reassembling its atoms. Marcus wasn't far behind, using his biotics to lighten his mass and allow him to propel forward like a missile, body colliding with the scion with such force that much of it was just shorn from its two, stubby legs, the rest of its body exploding upon the firebase's abandoned armoury bunker. Liara's reave tore apart the three husks making up the right scion, and there was practically nothing left of James'. Turning around, they watched as Garrus took position behind a scorched rock, his sniper rifle perched ontop and coughing up shot after shot, the weapon able to do so because it used the old mass acellerators of three years ago, and not the heat sinks of modern day weapons that required thermal clips. The Reapers seemed confused at first, especially the marauders, but they quickly split their forces to deal with both the squad's counterattack and Victus' bastion.

Marcus, falling to one knee, let his mattock chew up the few abominations charging up at them, who promptly exploded, killing more than a few cannibals. One cannibal tried to sneak up on Liara, but only managed to drain three quarters of her shields before she picked up and tossed it away like a rag doll. A marauder ripped into her with its phaeston, but met a messy end at the barrel of Garrus' sniper rifle, who shouted his running line, 'Scoped and dropped.'

James chanted 'hooo rah!' as he emptied the last of his Revenant's ammo into a squad of cannibals on the left flank, before pulling out his shotgun and finishing them off with little to no trouble. He had a close encounter with one of the three marauders, who proved to be more of a challenge, but James simply rolled out of its line of fire, primed a grenade, tossed it, took cover and watched the marauder disappear in bright light.

All seemed to be going well, until Marcus saw the hulking form of a brute lathargically moving towards them on all fours, periodically standing up on all its back legs, slamming its chest with fists, before roaring, although they couldn't actually hear it, of course. It moved towards them, and Marcus was suddenly pouring every shot he had into the monstrosity. Garrus noticed as well, and did the same, but whatever shots they tried to land was ineffectual.

With a sudden realization, Marcus raised his rifle at the last second and fired a clean shot through its left eye, the bullet blasting out the back end. It seemed to roar in anger or pain at the impact, although both emotions were impossible for the creature, and it landed forwards, slamming into the ground, its right claw narrowly missing Garrus' head by a few inches. Stepping up to it, Marcus emptied a few more shots into its head before being satisfied it was dead.

Another brute moved to charge James, but Liara was already moving to bolster his position, Marcus ordering him to aim for the head while simultaneously, and ironically, pulling out his ML-77 Missile Launcher to deal with the third brute, which was charging towards himself and Garrus...again. Rolling his eyes, he took aim and fired, watching the rocket impact its shoulder, and blast off one of its shoulderpads harmlessly. He reloaded and went to fire again, but Garrus' voice was far more distracting, "Shepard! To your right!"

He turned, only to get a face full of husk as it pounced on him and tackled him to the ground, silence erupting from its usually groaning vocal box. Soulless, synthetic eyes looked into his as it began scratching at his visor and, terrified that it would rupture his suit, he brought his launcher up and rammed it in the head with all his strength, which caused its forehead to snap back and its frail body to crumple to the ground. And just as he thought it all over, the brute was upon him, Garrus falling back, yelling into the comm for Marcus to run. But he didn't. Instead, he did something incredibly stupid.

As it raised its bulbous, massive claws to crush him into a gorey, visceric pulp, Marcus raised the launcher, aimed for the chest, and fired, point blank. He felt the heat of the explosion as it ruptured its exposed, metallic ribcage and blasted all the perverted organs out from its molested body. The brute seemed to fall back slightly, eyes losing their horrific glow as its main systems were crippled. Unable to sustain itself, the huskified krogan fell forwards, almost crushing Marcus under its weight, and winding him in the process.

This was all too familiar.

This reminded him too much of that one time on Eden Prime. And so, he found himself saying the same thing he said then.

He commed his radio, "Get. This. Thing. Off. Of. Me."

He heard a chuckle over the radio, its flanged tone giving away its owner as Garrus, followed by James muttering something about him being 'loco' and how 'right his nickname was.' Liara seemed to give an unimpressed sigh, and Marcus was quickly exposed to it as James and Garrus, together, picked up and lifted the dead brute off of Marcus, the human's armor covered in black viscera and liquid.

"You are such an idiot sometimes," the asari scowled.

"Either that or get crushed," Marcus bit back, "I certainly wasn't ready to meet my maker yet."

"You could have rolled out of the way," Liara stated.

"Correction," the spectre growled, "I could have _tried _to roll away, and lost an arm doing so. Not to mention dying from the suffocation that would result from my suit being ruptured. So no, point blank rocket firing was the way to go."

"You are so completely loco," James chuckled, unable to hold in his mirth.

"Don't mean to ruin the fun. Really, I don't. Any other circumstance, and I'd join in," the turian explained, pointing to the back of the firebase, "But we have a Primarch in a very dire situation who needs saving."

Nodding, Marcus reloaded his mattock and lead the team forward. The praetorian was their only real worry now, and that was easily taken care of with the combined effort of the turian heavies and his squad. The rest of the Reaper troops were picked off piece meal, and the Destroyer seemed to have moved away, uninterested in what was happening below it. So by the time they cleared the base, all was safe.

The turian soldiers did not leave their positions however, and remained on the defensive, knowing an enemy counterattack was possible and going to happen. But from the looks of it, defending the place was pointless; there was nothing left of Firebase Veracity to defend. His squad simply took a breather as Marcus waited, watching as the man he knew was Victus from just looking at him, approach.

The man had jet black armor with brown stripes running down its length, with the Hierarchy insignia plastered ontop of his opaque visor and shoulders. He came to a stop, his stance reminding him of how Anderson stood, hands clasped behind his back in a way that commanded obedience. He looked down at Marcus, seeming to be sizing him up, before he spoke, voice smooth but clipped.

"Of all the reinforcements I expected, it wasn't two humans, an asari and Garrus Vakarian," Victus stated, eyes glancing over at Garrus, "Vakarian...where did you go?"

Marcus turned to the turian in surprise, who just shrugged nonchatantly, "You pointed out that there was a Reaper flanking movement converging on the right and threatening our emplacements? I believe your words were 'get those damn things the hell off of my men!' So I followed those orders, added a bit of turian hell, and then exaggerated alittle more. A bit of finasse. I hope I didn't dissapoint."

"Well my emplacements didn't fall for another half an hour, so I'll consider myself impressed at your...exaggeration," Victus stated, seeming to chuckle without even doing it, "But you did disappear for quite a while."

"Sore someone in need of help," Garrus remarked, snatching a glance at Marcus before looking back at Victus, "Being the gentleman I am, I donated by services."

"Indeed," Victus replied, ever vigilant, ever unflinching; he was a statue, without emotion and without a crack. It showed just how deep the military ran in the man's veins, and Marcus had no doubt that this guy had once been part of the turian blackwatch; the Hierarchy's special forces, and elite of the elite. _How about that, eh? Human hand-to-hand combat versus turian hand-to-hand combat? _Marcus knew he'd only win that fight because of his cybernetics, which naturally made him stronger and faster than any normal organic being, but without them, they'd be evenly matched. Marcus was broken from his thoughts by Victus' talking once more, eyes set on the spectre, "And I believe you are Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Commander of the Normandy?"

Marcus blinked for a moment, surprised, before regaining his professional composure, "How do you know my name?"

"Didact Irix had you pegged the moment you entered the system. He needed to keep tabs on all Reaper forces to keep a tally of their numbers. Of course, the SSV Normandy is well known throughout the galaxy by its reputation, and furthermore upon its commanding officer. Although why you are here is an entirely different matter."

_Good. Straight to the point. No batting the bush. I can get to like this guy. _He straightened, nodding, "I'm sorry to be blunt on this, ArchGeneral, but I was sent here, under recommendation from the turian councilor, to extract the Primarch for the War Summit. I'm building an armada to fight the Reapers, and I need the turians onboard for it, which means getting my hands on the Primarch. Unfortunately for me, and the rest of the galaxy-"

"You have no Primarch to extract," Victus regarded solemnly, lighting nodding, "Yes, it has been crippling for morale to know our leader is dead. He was loved by our people as one of the greatest Primarchs whoever lived, and also one of many to not have been a wartime leader. Save for this war, of course. Although I don't know I'd even call this a war," he looked upon his men, reduced to little more than a company, "Its more like extermination. Its only war when both sides have an equal chance of winning. These Reapers...they're unlike anything we've ever encountered. You kill one, three more replace it. Destroy one ship...well, just doing that is hard enough."

_You think that's bad? Oh, it gets worse. The turians were only the third hit. What do you think they're doing to Earth? To Khar'Shan? Rounding up humans and batarians, turning them into their personal, brainwashed soldiers and shipping them off to fight for what? A campaign of total genocide? How can you stem hope from something like that? No Victus, you have encountered nothing. Not yet._

"ArchGeneral. There is another issue. You know with the Primarch's death, that someone has to succeed him. Someone of high military stature," Marcus reminded.

"I know my people's politics, captain. I don't need a human to remind me, no offense intended," the turian replied, inhaling, "I will inform Didact Irix immediately. He needs to know."

"I think you're confused, ArchGeneral," Garrus stepped in, eyes furrowed as he looked at him, "The Navy was last time's election; Fedorian was the ex-Didact. This time's the Army. Victus..._you're _the new Primarch."

In that second, the man went utterly still; not so much as a breath. He just looked blankly at Garrus, before exchanging a look with Marcus, who gave a pathetic nod. He could picture the man's mandibles opening and closing, trying to find the words but unable to find them. Finally, he turned around, looking at the bunker, as if trying to keep his eyes off the giant globe of orange that was his homeworld above him. He spoke, although the words seemed to be more for himself, "I'm...Primarch Victus? Leader...of the Turian Hierarchy?"

"That you are," Marcus added sympathetically, knowing how overwhelming it must be. _I just hope he doesn't let the politics corrupt him. _"You're needed at the War Summit. I'm sorry to say, but we need to extract you immediately. Your survival is of absolute necessity."

As if pulled by a piece of string, Victus looked up at Palaven burning above him, and responded, voice full of ice, "You come here, watch my world burn, save my men from a slaughter, and then ask me to leave this all to have tea and biscuits with a few politicians, living in safety and luxury in some office on the Citadel?" he sighed, his brief moment of anger vanishing, and replaced with sorrow, "I...I had a wife on Palaven. I loved her, and she loved me. My son is military, Navy of course, and was recently given command of a frigate called the THS Honor and Loyalty. Spirits smile upon me, he was refueling at the Citadel when the Reapers hit, and I believe he has regrouped at a Council space station over Bekenstein," he turned to meet Marcus' eyes, and he could definitely feel the melancholy, "My wife was not so lucky. I was evacuating her and myself from our apartment when the husks landed outside. I was injured, and therefore forced to watch as they...they didn't kill her. They just dragged her away...broke her legs, and carried her away...I can still hear her screaming. What have they done with my wife? I shall never know. Because me and my men are stuck on this moon, defending its worthless existence, waiting for counterattack orders that will never come."

Marcus gulped, wanting to tell him, but not doing so because the truth of it would hurt more. _What would I tell him? That his wife was taken away to a Reaper concentration camp to be turned into another Reaper abomination? That she was likely one of the marauders he was fighting today? Or likely fighting her son somewhere else in the galaxy? No. I could not tell him that._

_What if I heard someone tell me Tali had been turned into a husk? That I had been forced to kill her? What would I do to them?_

He didn't like the answer. _I wouldn't touch them. No, I would pull out a pistol, load it, and then-_

Victus, taking Marcus' silence as a 'I'm not backing down' stance, gave a brief nod, "Give me time to say goodbye to my men. I will need to transfer my command over to one of my field generals; likely Corinthus. The man has been looking for a promotion for quite a while, and is almost as calm as I am; he can handle it. I hope that is not too much."

"Take all the time you need, Primarch. I know all too well how...final...goodbyes can be," he winced at those words, grimacing at their hidden meaning. _You knock off that fucking defeatist bullshit, trooper! Pull yourself together! She is not dead! She is not dead! She is not GODDAM DEAD! So get your finger out of your ass, leave daisyland through the exit, and ask the Grim Reaper if he could go fuck himself. Because you have ALOT of work to do._

_And that involves politics. Oh yes, __**politics.**_

Victus went off to speak with his men, while Marcus turned towards his squad. James had holstered his shotgun and was helping a few turian marines drag the corpses of the dead Reapers over into a corner, where they were forming a organic barricade of sorts; it was a tactic that went back to the days of the Spartans of Greece, the Roman Republic, Parthia and the other civilizations of the Classical Era. Liara looked exhausted, and leaned on one hip very noticably, giving him a thumbs up. Garrus simply looked at him, showing how hard it was for turians to get tired, while speaking, "So...Primarch Victus. I bet he's just thrilled about that. He's not only left his wife and homeworld to die and burn, but now he's about to leave his troops too to do...what? Sit around all day? How very lazy."

"Don't give me that shit," Marcus snapped, "You know there's no other choice."

"Yeah, of course I do. And that's what pisses me off," the turian replied in defeat, shaking his head as he glanced up at Palaven, "That's probably what's pissing Victus off. What did James say? Leaving the fight. Leaving the fight to win it; get to play safe while men die to protect this stupid moon."

"It'll get better," the spectre muttered, "It has to."

"That sounds like words of desperation than actual fact," Garrus replied, "But I believe you; if not me, who will?"

"Does that mean you'll be joining us?" he found himself asking, but quickly made to reword his blunt question, "I mean, I won't force you or anything. You can stay-"

"Spirits, have you gotten even more idiotic? Of course I'll come with you. Didn't you listen to what I just said? Typical human ignorance," the turian replied smugly, one of his mandibles twitching in mirth, "Besides, what's left for me here? Just a dustball of a moon, a burning homeworld and men being slaughtered left and right. Might as well achieve something."

"Don't you just fucking hate war?" Marcus asked, the question more genuine than humorous.

"And its barely begun," was Garrus' short response.

By then, Victus had returned, hands still clasped behind his back, "I have said my goodbyes, Captain, and I am ready to leave at your leisure. Better now than never. I've informed my men that they'll be regrouping at Firebase Reach, where their command will transfer to Corinthus. He's been informed of his promotion. He was less than thrilled," he sighed, rubbing the back of his helmet.

"He didn't strike me as the man in a situation where he wanted to be given even more responsibility, but we have no choice. The Hierarcy needs its Primarch for that Summit," he moved to comm the Normandy for pickup, but stopped when Victus cleared his throat, regaining his attention.

"About that Captain," the Primarch stated, meeting Marcus' eyes, "I can't give you the turian military for your armada; not at the moment. Not while my homeworld is still burning."

Widening his eyes in surprise and anger, he took a step forward, and was in Victus' face in an instant, "We are doing this _for _Palaven. _For all _the homeworlds."

"But," Victus hammered down, clearly not finished or liking the invasion of his personal space, "If the pressure could be taken off of Palaven and Menae, maybe a large percentage of it can be donated to this armada. Maybe, when the time comes, all of it."

"Take the pressure off?" Marcus scoffed, turning away as he turned his back to the turian and crossed his arms, "That's a pretty tall order."

"Not as tall as some might guess. The naval situation is hopeless, but not for the ground. We need soldiers. Tanks. People born for war," Victus left that hang in the air before continuing, hammering in his conclusion, "We need the krogan. I can't see us winning this thing without them. Get Palaven the krogan support it needs, and then we're all yours."

"The krogan?" Garrus stated bluntly, just as confused. Marcus turned and looked at him with a look of wide-eyed surprise, and James just laughed, managing to say "Guess we're getting the meat after all" inbetween inhales of oxygen. Marcus wanted to rub his temples, but knowing he couldn't, simply turned away, nodded, and went back to radioing Cortez for pickup, hoping the situation with EDI was cleared up sufficiently.

_The krogan? The bloody krogan? He wants me to get the krogan and the turians to work together? Yeah, sure Victus! Resolving a thousand years of justified hatred? No problem! Fuck sake, as if the political situation wasn't already fucked beyond repair._

_Krogan._

He hoped Wrex had been doing what he told him to do, or this was going to be a very long War Summit.

**"So began the War Summit?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes indeed. What a bitch."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Sorry for the late update. Was spending far too much time playing GTA V with a friend of mine, and my addiction with Destiny has gotten out of hand. Hopefully this will not happen again, and future updates will be faster.**_

_**Hahahaha, what I just wrote was bullshit. It will happen again, because I FUCKING LOVE Destiny, and I have A LIFE OTHER THAN FANFICTION.**_

_**Now that my agitated episode (over nothing) is over, I shall now return to writing the next chapter. Fuck you all. Jk. Lol. YOLO. SWAG. I'm a twelvie now! **_

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	10. Chapter 9 The Blood Shall Flow

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER NINE:**

**THE BLOOD SHALL FLOW**

_June 4, 2186_

_0922 hours._

_Skyline Main Entrance, Settlement Perimeter, Zhu's Hope, Feros._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Fall of Feros._

_Colony Executive Shiala R'Ness._

Her breath was ragged, her throat on fire from her exertions. But she never stopped. She just kept running; to do not do so would be death. A death that was rapidly approaching her from behind. Her legs continued to be stretched to their limit as they took her further in their strides, her exhausted muscles attempting to convince her to take a rest. But she never stopped. She just kept running; to do not do so would be death. Instant death.

It had began ten minutes ago; gigantic forms of sentient starships descended from the sky, their gleaming, crimson hulls and gargantuan legs a testament to their power. Three of them descended, each bigger than skyscrapers, and one had immediately landed on the old ExoGeni Headquarters building, crushing it with its weight. But there had been more; more that were smaller, but just as menacing; and they had deployed the horrible creatures that were currently chasing her. She knew who they were, what they were; she had met one during her time as Saren's obedient servant; when she had been indoctrinated. Reapers. They were here. And they were here to harvest the entire Feros colony.

A red beam had cut straight through the Prothean Skyline like it was butter, cutting off Zhu's Hope from the ExoGeni side of the colony. She had seen it and, telepathically, she had informed Juliana of the incoming Reaper forces, and the evacuation had begun in earnest. And now here she was, running for her life, tears falling from her eyes. But it wasn't tears of sadness for her life. No, it was tears for _her _life.

Arcelia Silva Martinez; that had been her name. She had been a human, a 'rent-a-cop' that had worked for ExoGeni until the Thorian had been unearthed, and they had all fallen under its control. Shiala hadn't though; she had served Saren when she was indoctrinated by Sovereign. It had only been when Saren sacrificed to the Thorian to gain the cipher; only then had she been freed of her indoctrination. Silva had been under the Thorian's control until Lieutenant Commander Marcus Shepard arrived, fought off the geth, and destroyed the Thorian, ending its dominion over them. Shiala had been freed, and instead of serving Saren, she gave Shepard the cipher, and then pledged her life to helping the people of Feros recover; it was the least she could do to atone for her crimes.

But it seems the Thorian's legacy wasn't completely gone; its spores were still in their veins, and it had changed them forever; gave them unique abilities, including limited telepathy. It was odd, but the Thorian had controlled them through this telepathy, and when it died, its control was lost, but its abilities passed down onto them, allowing them to use it. It also changed the pigment of her skin; no longer was it the normal blue of most asari, now it was dark, sickly green; like the Thorian had been. But now the colony could communicate through their minds, all except Elizabeth Baynham; the only one left unaffected by the spores or the influence of the now dead Thorian. A Thorian that had been dead for three years.

But now she wept, and as she ran, she couldn't help but continue to look back at times, never having been as afraid as she was right now. But she was also letting all the sorrow pour out of her. She had been supposed to protect them; and they had died anyway. A simple scouting mission; scout for resources, return to the colony. They could have gotten home safely. But they hadn't, and now the fight of their lives had begun.

Shiala was all that remained of that small team, and as she looked behind her, she could see Martinez, and the rest of the team, now transformed into husks, moving towards her at a jogging pace, their ear-piercing moans chilling her to the bones as she turned back around and continued running towards the Zhu's Hope garage. With hope, they'd already be evacuating. She ran as fast as she could, just keeping ahead of the husks, but it wouldn't be long before they caught up. As she turned back, she met the husk's, once known as Arcelia Silva Martinez, eyes, glowing with blue intensity and berefit of all life and emotion. Completely lifeless. She remembered how the woman originally looked; and now she was just a cybernetic abomination.

A Reaper airhorn sounded behind her, reminding her of the actual Reapers behind her, the monolithic constructions now proceeding to converge on the building holding Zhu's Hope. The planet of Feros was doomed, that much was obvious, but the population could be saved. They'd head to the Citadel, find help there. _I know we will. We have to._

She picked up the pace, and she quickly got through the threshold of the garage, slamming it shut by punching the controls. The moans were cut off, but the piercing airhorns of the approaching Reaper warships would not be ignored. And she knew from the creatures she had seen chasing her, some of them being more than just huskified humans, that the garage door wouldn't hold them for long. _But it'll hold them long enough._

The asari turned around, wincing at the minor scratch on her arm that the huskified Martinez had managed to land on her arm, but quickly shrugged it off, moving up and towards the elevator, hoping the colony was already half-evacuated. It was times like this that she wished Fai Dan was still alive, and that he hadn't committed suicide under the Thorian's control. He was definitely a better leader than Shiala, and would have kept Martinez in line when she got subjugative. _She's a nice person when you talk to her personally, but when it comes to democracy? She just wants everything to be run her way. Damn it, why do I have to be in charge? I offered to rebuild the colony, not lead it. That was Juliana's job. _

But the woman had given command to Shiala, seeing as she was 'better suited' to it than her; it allowed her to spend more time with her daughter, Lizbeth, and tending to Doctor Reynolds, who had fallen sick with the fever not too long ago; a few months, maybe. And as the asari ex-commando entered the elevator, hitting the controls for it to elevate into the colony, she cursed her luck, but knew she had no other choice. _These people need a leader. If Juliana won't lead them and noone else will, than it has to be me. Simple as that, as unfortunate as it is._

Images of Martinez and her team being impaled on spikes and transforming into those horrible creatures flash in her mind, and she cries out, not enjoying them. The Thorian may have freed her of the Reaper indoctrination upon her, but there was still enough of it lingering for the Reapers to send flashes of imagery through her mind; they couldn't control, manipulate or guide her anymore, but they sure as hell could mess with her mind. And she hated it.

The creaky elevator finally made it to the top, the conveyor belt in the middle sliding down, allowing the rest of the door to screech as it slid open on its hinges. Running out, she immediately spun left, and then left again, before moving right and into Zhu's Hope; her home for the past three years, and home to the remaining colonists of Feros, and now their last stand. _Just like the Eden Prime War. Except this time its the masters we must flee from, not the puppets we must fight off._ The geth were nothing compared to the overwhelming might of the Reaper armada, Saren had taught her that much when he corrupted her former Matriarch, Benezia M'Soni. Both were dead now. _Saren got what he deserved. But the Reapers arrived anyway. The Battle of the Citadel was for nothing._

She rushed into the encampment, where she saw a civilian-colored shuttle hovering over an elevated platform; it was currently half-full of civilians, as she had hoped. Her eyes landed on Juliana Baynham, the woman coming into her early sixties, who was currently waving the colonists into the shuttle, one by one, while Lizbeth, only a few meters away and holding an avenger assault rifle lazily, stood on guard, watching for any enemies. She quickly, but pathetically, moved to raise her rifle, but upon seeing it was her green-skinned asari friend, she lowered it, a grin of relief covering her face, "Shiala! Thank God!" she turned back to Juliana, "Mum! Shiala's back!"

Shiala moved up to and hugged Lizbeth tightly, before the two parted and leaned in for a brief kiss on the lips. Their relationship was fairly new, as they had both kept their feelings secret for quite a number of time, and of course those feelings had to develop over time, but they did eventually, and five months ago they became a couple, with Juliana's blessing. Shiala didn't know whether she loved Lizbeth or not, but she knew she wanted to bond with her, and that was close enough. After breaking the kiss, Shiala hugged Lizbeth again before yanking the rifle from her grip and running over to Juliana, face contorting in fear, "How's the evacuation coming?"

The woman turned towards her, her tired, worn and wrinkled features coming to meet her smoother ones and quite clearly torn in frustration, "Not fast enough. The Reaper forces will be here by the time we finish getting everyone on the shuttle," a frown creased her lips and brows, and seemed to look behind Shiala for a bit, eyes searching the colony. After a bit, she looked back at Shiala, still frowning, "Where's the rest of the team? Where's Arcelia?"

"She..." Shiala sighed, a tear leaving her eye, "We were caught during the initial Reaper landing. Damn Troop Transport landed and began swarming our location. I...was forced to declare a retreat, but they team was captured and impaled on these...spikes. Dragon's Teeth, you humans call them. Within seconds, they weren't people anymore. They were...husks. I'm sorry Juliana, there was nothing I could do. I ran here as fast as I could, but now a massive husk horde, including our team, is banging on the hanger door and it won't be long before they break through. We need to hurry this up."

Juliana had a brief look of sadness in her eyes before quickly nodding, "Of course. Time for mourning later. Lizbeth! Get on the shuttle! We're leaving now!" Shiala nodded, turning to Lizbeth and waving her over. The human nodded with enthusiasm, clearly eager to get out of there. Just as she walked into the shuttle however, an airhorn sounded, loud and close, deafening them for a few seconds as they covered their ears, looking up to the source.

It descended down from the clouds like a demon from hell, long legs spreading out to absorb the impact of its landing. The Reaper Destroyer slammed ontop of the docking bay, legs caving the roof in and sending plumes of smoke up into the air where it landed, its immense frame standing tall amongst the colony infrastructure. Two covers on its main body folded apart to reveal a gleaming red eye as it stood to its full height, pulling its legs out of the bay as it took aim at the colony...and fired, airhorn blaring.

The laser hit the center bunker, instantly vaporizing it and creating a crater that was quite deep; the shockwave sending all of them onto their asses. The Reaper wasn't finished, and began cutting a swath of destruction through the entire colony, sending ruptures of smoke and flame into the sky, destroying everything it could find. And just as Shiala thought the worst had arrived, she heard moaning, and turned left, cheeks losing their color in horror of what she saw.

The garage had obviously fallen, as she now watched Arcelia's husk, followed by the rest of the horde, slammed forward towards them like a hurricane, moaning and snapping and growling and howling, eyes demanding their submission and death. The Reaper blared again, but this time a voice erupted from it, and it sounded deep throated and horrifying, **"I am Oblivion. The seed of your eradication."** As if to push across its point, it fired its weapon once more, the remainder of the skywatch apart and they all watched it burn asunder. In the distance, they watched as more Reapers approached, and Shiala knew they had to leave or die.

She turned to the other husks, watching as Reynolds, desperately trying to limp away, was tackled to the ground as Arcelia leapt on him, jaw clenching around his throat and tearing away his jugular. His scream was cut short by this and she watched as he disappeared under fifteen husks, many of the creatures tearing him apart, blood gushing across the ground in a sea of red. She felt sick, and summoned her biotics, sending a shockwave down their ranks to slow them down as she turned back to Juliana, worry in her eyes. Shiala knew they wouldn't be able to take off without a distraction; not with those ranged husks and that 'Oblivion' watching. Someone needed to stay behind. Someone...with combat experience in delaying actions.

Her eyes met Lizbeth's, a melancholy beginning to form in their deep pits. _Oh, my Lizbeth. I did not get to tell you how much you mean to me. I'm so sorry._

Lizbeth heard her thoughts, a sob escaped her as she covered her mouth. _No, I know what you're thinking! Don't be a fool, Shiala! You know you can't possibly hold them off!_

Shiala smiled, shaking her head, but the smile quickly died, its humor lost on her. _Do you think I intend to successfully live through this? Lizbeth, I am merely going to buy you and the colonists time to escape. That Reaper...Oblivion...he will kill you, and those husks over there, if you don't escape. And you won't escape if someone doesn't stay behind. _She paused for a moment, sending another shockwave the horde's way, and once again stalled their advance, turning back to Lizbeth, who had tears in her eyes as she tried to rush Shiala, but her fellow colonists held her back. By now, the asari could feel Reynolds' sticky blood sloshing past her boots like the flow of water, and she almost hyperventilated at that moment. _Get yourself together! You are...were...an asari commando! Hone your skills and use them! You need to buy them time!_

_Don't do this, _was Lizbeth's response.

The pain was becoming too much to bare, and Shiala simply shook her head, another tear streaking past as she turned away, _Goodbye Lizbeth. _

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and a weapon landed in her grip, eyes glancing from the SMG up to Juliana's. Lizbeth's mother gave her a look of understanding and then embraced Shiala, a hug she awkwardly reciprocated. "We'll never forget," Juliana whispered, pulling away and nodding erratically, "Never. The colonists of Feros will never forget. We'll go to the Citadel, find Shepard."

"Tell him I told him to give the Reapers hell and to make it count," Shiala replied and gave him a firm nod, motioning to the shuttle, "Now get out of here, Juliana. Your daughter will try and stay behind with me; make sure that does not happen. She will mourn, but you will be there with her. And thank you," she stopped her movement, turning towards Juliana one last time, "For forgiving me. After Fai Dan's death, and all I've done to you. Thank you for your forgiveness, and I hope it was not misplaced."

Juliana's response was simple, "It was not." Then she was gone, and the shuttle doors closed. Shiala watched it slowly ascend and then she turned back around, inhaling a deep breath of air in her lungs as she turned towards the Reaper horde, raising her SMG and summoning all of her available biotic might. It was what little she had left.

She watched the horde converge upon her, and Oblivion seemed so focused on her that it did not even notice the shuttle full of colonists leaving. That or it simply didn't care; the Feros colony wasn't that big to begin with, anyway. Its words reverbrated through her mind like echoes on the wind. **"Your ignorance will cost you," **it mocked, **"You fight to save those you care about, yet it is in vain. You fight to avoid what must be done. We are the order upon the chaos of your evolution and existence. Your harvest is necessity born upon your pathetic imperialism. You cannot deny your genetic inevitability."**

"If there is one thing Shepard taught me," Shiala retorted, a slight grin tearing her lips as she raised her SMG at the husk of Martinez, snarling and charging at her at full speed, "Is that nothing is impossible. Saren once told me that Sovereign believed indoctrination incurable. Once under Reaper control, it is irreversible," she fired her weapon, and the burst cut through the husk's held like an overripe melon, finally putting Martinez to rest, "And yet I am, proof of that mistake. Spare me your words Oblivion, for I am no longer listening."

**"So be it," **Oblivion roared, simply watching the horde charge at her, **"Your death will mean nothing. Forgotten by the next cycle, and the one after that. Know this as you die in vain."**

She cried out, letting loose with a flurry of biotic attacks, skills honed from her years as an asari commando of the Asari Republican military coming back to her mind as she concentrated and organized her assaults, aiming for the heaviest and most brutal of the hostiles while focusing her SMG fire on the smaller creatures, namely the huskified batarians and humans. She watched the hulking form of a transformed krogan moving forwards, its tiny turian head glaring at her with sickening intent, wide fists ready to crush her into a ichory pulp. They horde slowly pushed her back, but she held on, unleashing everything she had, but eventually she would tire, and she could feel exhaustion creeping into the edge of her vision as her biotics began to wear her out.

As she reached the edge of the Zhu's Hope encampment, now broiling with flames and choked with thick, black smoke, she thought of only one person, one she cared about immensely. _Be strong Lizbeth. The war is not over, and I know you will mourn. Be done with it, and then fight on. Destroy the Reapers. Only then will my sacrifice mean anything. Keep the people of Feros alive. Let the people of the galaxy know that we survived a geth invasion, and we will survive a Reaper invasion. And most of all, tell Shepard...I owe him. He forgave me for what I did, and I never got to thank him for it. Thank you Commander...may the goddess smile upon you._

She cried out as she pushed forth another biotic warp, this one her last, as she soon fell to one knee, unable to keep up the fight that was draining her completely. She took in deep ragged breaths, and never took her eyes off the husks before her, which were swarming like locusts; the Reapers never seemed to run out of fresh troops, and they were sending every single one on Feros straight for her.

She raised her SMG with a shaky hand and fired three more bursts, the mere movement draining her remaining reserves. She had dealt a heavy toll on the enemy forces, but because of how quickly they replenished said forces, it might as well have meant nothing. She wouldn't be surprised if she barely dealt one percent of casualities on their forces. Probably not even a quarter of a percent. _There's just so many..._

And Oblivion just watched, uncaring, and completely relentless.

She yelped as the SMG in her hand disappeared as a husk knocked that hand aside, five scratch marks trailing down her palm and beginning to leak purple blood. She staggered backwards, lashing out with her other hand and punching the husk straight in its face, the impact damaging some of its cybernetics, but not killing it. The husk just moaned and leapt forward, pinning her to the ground. This was it. This was how she died. Noone was coming to save her, noone would be anywhere nearby. And she felt...content with it.

_Lizbeth and Juliana are safe, along with the rest of the colonists, all heading for the Citadel. How could I-?_

She screamed as the husk's jaws clenched around her arm, tearing away flesh along with the cloth that covered it. She looked down in horror as the husk chewed on her flesh and spat it out, moaning as moved down to continue. All she could see was her pale green flesh, purple blood pumping out of the wound like a pump, and the pain was incredible. She lashed out with a headbutt, forcing the husk to pull away. But even as she did this, another husk came behind her and bit down on the back of her head, tearing away the tentacles that made up the scalp of asari heads. She bit down on her tongue by accident, and instantly regretted it as blood flooded her mouth from the wound, the taste bitter sweet. She ceased to fight back. Her death would be painful and agonizing, she knew that, but she was accepting of it. _I just hope its over soon._

And in the destruction and flames of the Zhu's Hope colony, the screams of an asari being torn apart, piece by piece, by an angry, mindless horde were the only sounds that could be heard over the piercing airhorns of a small Reaper flotilla, burning and harvesting everything on the human colony. Shiala did die content, because those she cared about had gotten away.

And that was a victory upon itself.

But it was not the last people would see of Oblivion.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1529 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Menae._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Siege of Menae._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, Primarch Adrien Victus, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

Marcus stood in the center of the kodiak shuttle's troop bay, one hand holding the railing above while another dangled aimlessly at his hip, eyes scanning the area around him. He felt the weight of his armor and weapons on him more now than he did during battle, and that had always intrigued him; how the heat of battle could make him forget just how heavy his Terminus Armor really was, and just how much recoil and kickback his mattock rifle had. It was days like that that he envied his cybernetics; they gave him strength in sectors he sorely needed, and made him the perfect human supersoldier. _And I only had to die once to get them...ha, funny that._

His eyes glazed over his team, and he felt a weak smile tug at his lips. Garrus sat next to Liara, the asari filling him in on everything that had happened from the Fall of Earth to Shepard's arrival on Menae. He listened to them chatting away, old friends brought back together and talking like nothing had gone wrong; but there was also a tinge of respect in them, and it was present in noone more than Garrus and Victus, both of who had just been forced to leave their homeworld in its time of need, both for entirely different reasons.

It was good to have another friend back on the Normandy, but it hadn't felt right to just take Garrus away like that. His homeworld was falling apart, and he had the audacity to ask the turian to pack his bags and leave to fight with him? What gave him that right? _For starters, Garrus volunteered. Secondly, what would have eventually happened to him? You saw the battle for yourself; it wasn't a battle, it was a denial of reality. Palaven had already fallen, and Menae will soon fall too. The battle was lost as soon as Harbinger and his reinforcements came through that relay to bolster the crippled scouts on the other side. You saved Garrus, and he saved himself._

James sat next to Victus, Revenant collapsed in his lap and the marine carefully examined it, making sure no permanent damage had been done to his beloved LMG. He sighed happily as he leaned back, but Victus did not show the same emotions. The man sat with a stoic expression on his face, earned from years of turian militarism and drilling. The man allowed no emotion to play on his face, and only those who knew what he was going through could possibly know that something was wrong with him. _It is for the greater good. We fight or we die._

Marcus knew he had to say something, or forever hold his silence. And he wasn't very good at holding silence, "I'm sorry you had to leave Palaven behind, Primarch. It...can't have been easy. I can't say I don't share your pain."

Victus rotated his head to look at him, face remaining stoic, his mandibles twitching only slightly, "How so, captain?"

"I was in the middle of counselling a few frightened politicians when Harbinger showed up on our front door in Vancouver," Marcus recounted, "That's when it began; the fall of Earth; my homeworld. I leapt through a skyscraper, Primarch, and I saw it all. I saw civilians get butchered in the streets, skyscrapers crumbling in the distance, skycars being shot out of the air, and flames lighting up the atmosphere. First time in human history that Earth got invaded, just like Palaven right now. I watched a battleship get torn in two like it was nothing. And in the end, I was forced to watch children be incinerated as they tried to escape, while my ship took off and left Earth behind. And its worse knowing that Earth had fallen long before the Reapers had even gone atmo."

Victus seemed to ponder on this for a bit until James decided to add his two cents worth, "Leaving the fight really pissed me off. I wanted to just punch the captain and commandeer a shuttle and head back down there. I was so angry...but in the end, Loco was right. Earth can hold out, but it won't win the war, only delay our defeat. I've come to accept Loco's decision now, and I think you should too, Primarch, sir."

Victus leaned back, inhaling, before shaking his head, letting his head fall into his palms as his elbows leaned against his knees, "I never doubted the captain for a moment. I knew what had to be done, and did so willingly. And while watching your world burn through a viewport as you leave is a pain no person should go through, it is necessary for men like us to do so, so that that world may still be standing later on. No, I hold no grudges captain. I only hope that by this necessity, a optimistic outcome is birthed."

_Optimistic outcome. _Those two words reminded him of Victus' request, and how much it made him both worried and excited. _Securing a krogan alliance with the turians. And undoubtedably with the salarians, which will be even harder. That worries me, but yet again, I'll see Wrex again, and he's in charge on Tuchanka, so I can count on him to keep the krogan from getting roudy. Of course, there's also Grunt; the baby krogan super killing machine. Why do I always get the weird ones? _He looked at Victus, nodding meekly, "Optimistic outcome, Victus? I can promise that. Gurantee it, actually. But securing an alliance between the Hierarchy and a blood thirsty race of warriors neutered to close extinction by that Hierarchy isn't going to be a walk in the park. It might take alot of convincing. And I mean _alot_."

"Then let the talks begin. Because while Palaven is burning, the turian military is focused on nothing but its preservation," the Primarch stated firmly, making it clear he would not budge on this topic, "When turian troops begin to see krogan soldiers raining hell on the Reapers, then the full might of the Hierarchy's armed forces will be yours. Only then, not before."

"I understand, Primarch, completely. I just wanted you to know the stakes here," Marcus stated, "I did not mean to insinuate otherwise. A krogan-turian alliance would not only be history in the making, but it would make for a powerful coalition and would bolster morale throughout the galaxy."

"If the krogan and turians, two races who have hated each other for a thousand years, can become allies and fight side by side, and that's impossible, then what's impossible about defeating the Reapers?" Garrus elaborated, showing his quick grasp of what Marcus meant, "Yes, morale would go soaring. All we need now is for the first quarian-geth couple, and the galaxy will get so cocky, they'll be throwing pineapples at the Reapers."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves," Marcus joked, glad the solemn silence of the shuttle had been broken, "Let's get this impossible coalition over with before we start declaring goals for another one."

"Are you always like this?" Victus asked, seeming to be confused.

"Yes, why not?" Marcus asked, still grinning, "Me and Garrus banter all the time. Insult each other and mock each other. It helps us think and fight."

"Victus is probably surprised at my terrible turian quality," Garrus quipped, shaking his head, "Its against regulations for a subordinate to banter or even engage in a friendship with his superior officer in the turian military. Says it 'causes disruption and makes subordinates too familiar with their commanding officers.'"

"Sounds alot like fraternization protocols in the Alliance," Marcus noted, "But alot more harsh. My drill sergeant didn't care if I bantered or not, but if I started throwing insults, it was on the ground and doing fifty. A hundred, once I enlisted for N5."

Victus' response was cut off by Cortez's voice yelling out from the cockpit, "Captain, ETA 20 seconds out from the Normandy. Joker's asking what took so long."

"Tell him I'll take as long as I want," Marcus joked, sighing as he moved over to the hatch, followed by Victus and the rest of the squad, "Also tell him I want an update on that situation with EDI."

"Yes sir," Cortez replied, before bringing the shuttle into dock with the stealth frigate.

Garrus was at his side in a second, voice curious but whispered, "Situation with EDI? Has she finally rebelled?"

He held back a chuckle as he whispered back, "No, unfortunately, its something alot less dramatic. I'll tell you later when we're not in sight of Primarch Victus. You've heard about Eva? The synthetic we fought on Mars?"

"Yes."

"And how we defeated it, and brought it onboard the ship for testing?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"We stored it in the AI Core. And the next thing you know, she starts acting up and systems starting shuttinf down."

"Oh," Garrus revelated, nodding as he pulled his head away, "That sounds very dramatic and very serious. Take pictures please."

Marcus sighed, rolling his eyes at the turian's inability to take really anything seriously. Before he could find a response, he felt the shuttle thump against the steel deck as it landed, and the hatch split open, the Normandy's interior welcoming them inside. Ever since the completion of the retrofit on the Citadel, all the loose cabling had been removed, the walls finished and painted, and the flickering lights fixed. Now it looked like a proper frigate, not one in drydock.

"Its gotten darker," Garrus noted as he took a step out onto the deck. Just as Marcus landed on the deck and removed his helmet, the turian looked at him, his own helmet pinned under his own arm, mandibles twitching in distaste, "I don't like it," his eyes glazed over to the makeshift armoury and his eyes widened, "They moved the armoury? Shepard, just what did they do to the Normandy?"

"Cut open the belly, moved the intestines alittle, completely removed the heart, and replaced it with a third lung," he joked, sighing as he moved over to the armoury, steadily removing more of his armor as he went, "Short story made even shorter; the Alliance fucked it up Garrus, but they did keep the thanix cannon. And before you ask, yes, the gunnery station has been left relatively untouched, although with some upgrades I think you'll like."

"Seems my sniper rifle will not be taking non-Reaper lives today," Garrus quipped, moving towards the elevator at faster speed, "Well, I think we all know where I'll be making camp. Since the Alliance went and messed up the place, I have no doubt alot of calibrations will have to be made," he seemed to sigh happily at that, "Yes, lots of calibrations."

"Goodbye Garrus," Marcus waved, sighing in feigned irritation, "Try not to strangle any armoury officers on your way there!" He shouted after the turian, but shortly found himself ignored as the elevator doors closed behind the turian, no doubt taking the marksman to the Crew Deck. Victus could only look on in shock as James moved past him, dumping his Revenant on the weapons bench while Marcus commed the cockpit PA on the bay's right support strut, speaking into it as he continued removing his armor and putting his weapons away, "Joker, get us out of here."

"Anywhere you'd like to go in particular?" Joker replied, clearly annoyed at something. Probably had to do with another system failure. _Better get Victus acclimated, and then see how Keeling's going with EDI. Can't have her acting up while we're stuck in a battleground. _

"Just hit the relay. Take us to the Citadel, but do not dock. I doubt we'll be hanging around for long. We'll contact the Council and see where and when this War Summit will occur, and then we'll head for that location. Can't afford to hang around. Get going, Joker."

The pilot didn't even reply as he disconnected, and a couple minutes later, Marcus finished cleaning up, now dressed entirely in just his normal civvies and cap, with only a pistol strapped to his hip. Frowning at it, he removed it, examined it with confusion, and then put it away. _Odd, I don't remember strapping it there. Am I really doing that subconsciously?_

He shook away that thought, and turned to see if James was finished, only to find him already at his work station on the left side of the bay, clad in his white singlet, dogtags and jeans, and broad shoulders pumping as he began to groan with effort, beginning his pulls ups on the metal bar stretching horizontally across his station.

Cortez walked past him towards his station, throwing a salute in his direction as he returned to his console and began typing in commands, a frown on his features. Seeing the man was deep in thought, he merely turned towards a waiting Liara and Victus, and motioned them towards the elevator, hitting the icon for the Crew Deck. After stepping out, he briefly showed Victus where his quarters would be during his stay on the vessel, and then they reentered the elevator, heading for the CIC; Marcus figured the man could work in the War Room, given his military background.

It didn't take them long to make their way through the conference room and into the War Room, where it showed to be a bustle of activity. Intelligence reports were flooding in from all over the Apien Crest region, and it was taking the War Room's specialists and advisors time to sort all the data. Marcus showed Victus to his station, coming to stand beside it, his hands clasped behind his back, "Victus, this is where you'll be staying for the majority of the conflict until we get this krogan-turian alliance sorted out. I hope you don't mind. The War Room is fairly new to me."

"The War Room is where old war hounds like us reside, is it not? It will do fine, Captain," Victus assured him and, still wearing his medium armor tinted with dried black ichor and littered with potmarks and bullet holes, moved over to the console and nodded, leaning against its surface as he brought up a image of Palaven on the table's holographic interface.

Marcus merely nodded to him, and was moving to talk away when he bumped into Kelly, who stood there with a weary smile on her face, holding her datapad before her. Before he could fumble for anything to say, she spoke, her smile strengthening with mirth as she did, "Captain, you have Fleet Admiral Hackett wishing to speak with you over the QEC. I believe it's in response to your recent success at extracting the Primarch."

"Thank you Kelly," he smiled at her, "Glad to see you're fitting in nicely."

"I was alittle angry that Comms Specialist Traynor stole my spot," she teased, "But I do quite like it in the War Room. I think I'll get used to it."

"Glad to hear it Kelly," he nodded to her, clasping her shoulder in reassurance before turning away and walking into the QEC, noticing Liara walk out with Kelly as they chatted on his way there. He smiled, knowing the two would get along just fine. He crossed the threshold between him and the QEC, and typed into the console, watching the blue, pixelated form of Hackett congregate in the middle, molding his holographic form before him, hands clasped behind his back and position strong.

"Captain," Hackett spoke, giving a curt nod, "I heard you recently extracted Primarch Fedorian from Menae for a...War Summit?"

"Primarch _Victus_, sir," Marcus corrected, "Fedorian was dead when we got there, so we got a replacement. And in answer to your question, yes, we did extract him, and we're just waiting for the War Summit now. But...there's been a...complication."

"Spill it, Captain. Any complications need to be resolved now. Are we getting turian support, or not?" Hackett asked, clearly impatient with the whole situation.

"Yes, we will sir. But at an added cost. It'll be a bonus for us, but extra work will be needed," the spectre replied, shuffling his feet as he exhaled, "Victus says he won't commit turian forces to the United Armada until he has krogan support. He wants the krogan in on this sir. He wants me to secure a krogan-turian coalition."

Hackett whistled, clearly impressed and annoyed at the same time, "Then it looks like you've got your hands full then, Captain. I can't say I'm optimistic about getting those two to work together, let alone fight side by side after the Rebellions, but if anyone can make it work, its you, Shepard. Also, did you just say 'United Armada?'"

Marcus chuckled, bracing himself against the console with a sigh, "I guess I did. Didn't know what else to call it, sir. This isn't just the Council. This isn't just the Terminus Systems or some rag-tag congregation of desperate idiots looking for hope. This is an alliance against the most powerful and vast enemy this galaxy has ever known. Remember the Second World War? How Britain was alone against the Germans and the Italians and the Russians, all until 1941? The United States, Britain, the Soviet Union, Australia...all of them united against a common foe, and together, they destroyed them, and gained more allies in the middle! We need to emulate that sir. We need to unite, fight together, and only then, will nothing stop us, not even the Reapers. The mercenary companies are only the beginning. I plan for the turians and the krogan to be next on the ladder, and then I'll see whether I can secure the asari and the salarians. After that, the vorcha. Then the elcor and volus. The hanar. The drell. And then...the quarians and the geth. It'll be an alliance like nothing this galaxy has seen, Admiral."

"And the biggest military in galactic history," Hackett sighed, "But I'm sure you also remember the League of Nations? The United Nations? They were failed unifications, Shepard."

"They weren't all desperate to survive against a common foe," Marcus countered, "In this, we have the perfect unifier; a fight for survival. I've been saying it non-stop, Admiral. _We fight or we die. _There is no negoitations, and there will be no signing of a peace treaty. The Reapers won't stop until we're erased from the galactic history books. We fight to survive. That is what this war is; and only with these alliances, will we form the bigger cohesive one."

"The United Armada," Hackett quiered to himself, nodding, "Sounds catchy."

In an instant Marcus had the perfect name for it, "How does the United Galactic Confederacy, sound?"

"The UGC?" Hackett pondered, smiling faintly, "Perfect, Shepard. I'll relay this to the rest of the Admiral-" he stopped, and the smile was suddenly gone, replaced with a grim reminder of...something, "I mean, I'll inform the rest of the Admirals that are left. We just got informed that Eighth Fleet was delayed; it tried to regroup over Ontarom, but got ambushed by a Reaper battlegroup. Admiral Ward's flagship was hit and destroyed; he didn't survive. Most of the fleet is intact though; I've decided to promote one of our Vice Admirals to Fleet Admiral of it; I'm sure Avery Pointer will do well enough."

Marcus quickly lost his smile too, and shook his head. He had also met Duncan Ward during his meeting on the Citadel; the man had been very boring and reserved, but it still hurt to know the man had died, and all because of an ambush. It reminded him of Joseph Garrong's death. And Kastanie Drescher's. _Three admirals gone, and the war is still in its infancy. _He looked back up at Hackett, nodding solemnly, "Relay the decision to the rest of the Admirals. See what they think. I...I've got to check something. I'll update you on anything else that happens. Shepard out."

A curt nod, and Hackett's form was gone, exploding into multiple pixels before they vanished as well and the QEC went dark. He walked out and down the steps towards Victus, about to speak when the lights went out, flickered, and then turned back on, but were dimmer, and began to flicker more frequently. Victus eyed him with confusion, and Marcus shook his head, already knowing the source and reason before Joker's voice came over the PA.

"Ah...Shepard?" Joker stated, "About EDI..."

"I'm on it," Marcus bluntly declared, marching out into the conference room, "Tell Garrus to meet me at the AI Core. Armed, preferrably."

Marcus quickly closed the distance between himself and the CIC, completely ignoring the metal detector as he moved past Samantha. The woman turned towards him, about to complain about her terminal constantly crashing, but he was already in the elevator and hitting the icon for the Crew Deck before she could finish.

The elevator seemed to sense his will and within moments, he was on the Crew Deck and moving towards the med bay in long strides, purpose in his eyes. Just before he raised his hand to open the door however, he felt an explosion shudder through the deck. It was small and contained, but he felt it, and Joker's voice quickly came over the PA again, "Shepard?"

"I heard, damn it!" He snapped, "I'm on it!" He hit the interface, and jogged inside.

Chakwas was nowhere to be seen as he entered, and for that matter, neither was Michel. But the room was far from empty. At the end was Adams holding a fire extinguisher, a oxygen mask over his mouth, along with Ken, who also held a fire extinguisher. Inbetween them was the form of Garrus, carnifex hand cannon strapped to his hip, with Keeling kneeled before him, her omni-tool constantly at work as she keyed numerous commands into the haptic interface before her.

Marcus moved forward, the frustration evident on his face even before he came to stand beside Garrus, the turian turning to face him with weary eyes, "Marcus, glad you could turn up," he turned back to the door, "This situation with EDI must be worse than we thought if I needed to bring my gun. Just how dangerous is this Eva?"

"The gun is a precaution, nothing more," Marcus warned, "Besides, I don't really think Eva's physical form is the problem. If she's managed to hack EDI and corrupt her, we're going to be in some pretty deep shit. We'd have to gut the entire Normandy just to get rid of her, and even then..."

"EDI is a friend," Garrus finished for him, "And we don't just kill friends."

"It'll be hard. But if she is corrupted, and she has full control over the Normandy. You know what needs to be done. Keeling?" Marcus turned to look down at the crouched N7, who seemed intent on getting the door open. But the more she tried, only the more persistent did the beeping of the red interface get. She sighed, standing up beside him.

"Shoddy, sir. I've tried everything I know, and nothing is working. Her grip on the door is absolute," Keeling stated, "If we had a combat engineer, things would be easier. But I doubt even they could break through. This is top level encryption sir; it'd take them years."

_Not Tali. Tali would hack through it in a minute; she's not only the best engineer in the galaxy, she's also had first hand experience with EDI's programming. Hell, even Legion could hack through it if it wanted to. Tali would have REALLY come in handy right about now. God I miss you. But where are you? And more importantly, where's the Migrant Fleet? Where'd you go?_

_Right, shit. EDI. Corruption. Focus. Don't let your mind wander._

"Let me guess...this is where you ask me to go get the Cain, and blast this door open?" Garrus concluded, looking at Marcus with a mirthless grin, "Because only a Cain is getting through this door; military steel is built to withstand rockets. Only a Cain is getting through that, and you know it."

"Straight to devastation, are we?" Adams quipped, shaking his head in disagreement, "We could simply cut the power to the door. If I can find the fusebox behind one of these bulkheads that powers it, I can cut off power and it'll open automatically; nothing holding it closed. It'll open automatically because of Alliance regulations regarding emergency losses of power; case in point, an EMP. Or a VI lockdown."

_But they'd didn't plan for an __**AI**__ lockdown, did they? _"Okay, get on that Adams. I wanted this door open yesterday. This mission is too important, and I can't have a corrupt EDI running the ship. Garrus, Keeling, ready your weapons. Be ready for-"

Suddenly, the red interface blinked, turned green, and the door shot open, revealing a ravaged AI Core. It looked exactly as it had a year ago; power cells and cores running along the walls, beeping blue with intense amounts of energy and electricity, forming EDI's brain. At the back would be a bench, where Legion had originally resided. Unfortunately, he couldn't see the bench. Flames licked at the power terminals, smoke bellowing around the room in a thick fog that made seeing the bench at the back, or anything really, impossible. The flames were small, but it wasn't that that Marcus took note of; it was the dents. They were subtle, but when you noticed them, you saw how big they were. Scorch marks potted the terminals and the floor, and dents not far away from them. Hell, one of them even looked look like a dent from a _fist. _Someone had tried punching EDI's core. Slowly, a picture formed in his head.

_Eva. She must have woken up and tried to kill EDI! She had no weapons, so her fists were her only option. Holy mother of hell, she must be incredibly strong...but what the hell was that explosion all about? Did EDI retaliate?_

"Captain?" Marcus turned at the sound of Adams' voice, and saw him holding his fire extinguisher in a ready position, and slowly the spectre nodded, motioning for Ken and himself to move inside and extinguish the flames, while Garrus kept a grip on his pistol, eyes scanning the room for Eva.

Adams' and Ken's extinguishers growled as a jet of foam exploded from their bellies, white jets putting out flames where they stood, and causing smoke to dance and die. They continued to spread this foam all over the Core, and were about to move further inside, when all four heard a loud clang, followed by the sound of leg servos operating, and then a step was taken, followed by another. Eva was inside, and moving.

Garrus had his pistol raised in an instant, aiming at the source with extreme precision. Marcus felt the chill of his biotics swim up his body, enveloping him in their odd kind of warmth as he prepped to meet the synthetic head on; and she, _it_, had killed or hurt EDI in anyway, he would destroy it for good this time. _Ha...never thought I'd say I'd kill someone for hurting my friend who is an AI. A friend who I'm literally __**inside **__of._

The footsteps increased until they could make out the shadow of a form in the smoke. Finally, the form of Eva appeared from the mist, her steps graceful and placed, but there was something different about her. There wasn't the hostile or maliceful intent that had filled Eva's eyes when she had attacked Kaidan and himself, but there was friendliness in them...understanding. Her steps weren't the quickness you'd expect from someone trying to kill you, but graceful and preserved. Her metallic surface gleamed in the light of the AI Core, and there was, just like on Mars, nothing left of the artificial human skin that had made her look so humanly feminine; just a synthetic exoskeleton. She stopped, eyes landing on Marcus', and something of an awkward, poorly animated smile appeared on her steely lips and for some reason, he did not cringe. Everyone was silent.

Then it spoke.

"Shepard," the synthetic spoke, seemingly happy, and Marcus felt his eyes widen in shock, along with Garrus', at the voice coming out of it, "Judging by your surprise, I believe I have succeeded in 'catching you with your pants down,' as I believe the human expression goes."

Managing to recover from his moment of surprise, he managed to take a step forward, albeit hesitantly, still not believing what he was hearing, "I...I don't...EDI? Is that actually you? How the hell...?"

"Yes," EDI replied simply, and he noticed Garrus was slowly lowering his weapon.

"You're in Eva's body," Marcus questioned, still not quite grasping.

"Not all of me," EDI explained, "Most of my core processes, programming and everything you would call 'me' is still within the AI Core and the Normandy, but some of my minor core processes are...within this infiltration unit. But I do have full control over it. However, it was not a seamless transition."

"No shit," Marcus responded bluntly, waving at the badly damaged AI Core, "This place looks like a warzone. I even heard an explosion. What the hell happened in here?"

"I saw this unit, and thought of the squad. With Legion as part of your unit, the squad operated more efficiently. If I could take control of this unit, I surmized that I could emulate this pattern," the AI looked around the bay, before her eyes landed back on his, "I was in the middle of erasing its function controls, but when it got to the point that I needed to actually delete the AI itself, the one you call 'Eva', it fought back. Its firewalls detected more trespassing and attempted to delete me instead. Of course, my firewalls were superior but she was...persistent. Eventually, she reassumed control momentarily and...decided to take things to the physical level. Hence the explosion, and the dents in the walls."

"How did she take things physically?" Garrus asked, holstering his pistol.

"She believed she could cripple the Normandy by destroying my core. She did not realize how extensive my core was, and how heavily armoured it was," she smiled faintly, although it still looked incredibly awkward and forced, "According to my cameras, I do believe she looked like she was having, what you humans would call a 'spaz out.' This is because while she was trying to focus on moving her unit, she was also focused on fighting my intrusion, which means her attentions were diverted between both, making physical movements erratic. However, I was able to find a back door behind her firewalls and used my cyber warfare suites, which were superior to hers, to erase her. She has been deleted, and I know have control of this platform."

"So...you killed Eva?" Marcus asked, letting his biotics die off, feeling now that he was safe knowing Eva was dead.

"That is an inaccurate term to use for a non-organic lifeform. It would be more appropriate to say she has been...terminated from operational existence. All that is left of her is this body, which I now firmly control," EDI finished explaining, her eyes watching his and clasping behind her back; she imitated this better than smiling.

Garrus spoke first, "EDI, you should have informed someone about this before doing anything. You shouldn't do things like this by yourself."

"That would have been counterproductive," EDI informed him, now crossing its arms, as if it was a child learning all the gestures mummy and daddy used, "Any attempts to help would have been limited by reaction time."

Marcus sighed, nodding, "So if you're in there...are you still in the ship? I mean, you did say you were mostly in the Normandy, still..."

"I exist primarily within the ship. I am the Normandy," she stated, "However, this unit can now be used as a minor secondary vessel. And due to my limited operational capabilities within it, if it were to be destroyed in combat, I would suffer no harm; like a geth, I could merely upload the assuaged programs back onto the Normandy and into my core database. I would be unharmed."

"'Be destroyed in combat?'" Marcus quoted, eyes glancing at Garrus, before glancing back at EDI, "Wait, EDI, are you saying you plan on taking that body somewhere?"

"This unit is an optimal infiltration unit, built for stealth and espionage. It would be a suitable supplement for Miss Goto's abilities in her absence," the AI informed him, "For optimal control, it should remain within the Normandy's tight beam range. But yes, I do plan on 'taking that body somewhere.' With your permission Shepard, I would like to test it on the battlefield. I would like to join the ground team."

"I don't know EDI," Marcus pondered, clearly not sold, "You may be good at naval combat, but ground support? I don't think so."

"You're forgetting something Marcus," Garrus piped up, causing them both to turn to look at him, "EDI is an AI; like Legion, she learns at the speed of light, especially when its something logically placed. If she doesn't know how to fire an SMG, all she has to do is simply look at the person firing it, and in seconds she'll be a marksman. It isn't that difficult for her. She's already familiar with following commands, and think of the advantages we'd have. I mean, Tali is a fantastic hacker and all, but not only is she here, but a machine is simply _always _faster and better than an organic at hacking. Fight fire with fire? Why not fight machine, with machine? I mean, Legion worked out great in that regard."

"And he was the only one who could make you look like a shit shot," Marcus grinned, conceding to his point as he turned towards EDI, "Okay, we'll see about it. But I'd like you to run diagnostics on that body, just to be sure Eva is actually dead. I don't want to take any chances. Do a trillion checks if its necessary. Just ensure she's gone."

"An understandable precaution. I am running the checks now," she seemed to stare into space for a moment, before suddenly looking back at him, "Complete. I can send you a full report if you wish. At the moment, my first priority should be restoring full functionality to the Normandy; to reassure the crew that all is normal. I do Specialist Traynor is getting suspicious."

"Just...don't be surprised if the crew is alittle worried about your new body," Marcus warned, his voice becoming dark, but not enough for anyone to really notice and pick out, "It did put Kaidan in a hospital."

"An excellent point," EDI replied, moving to leave, "I will now head to the cockpit. Joker will want to see my new platform."

He simply smiled as the synthetic left, door closing behind her as Adams activated the Core's sprinklers, killing off the rest of the flames. Muttering to himself, he could only find mirth out of the situation, "On that, we can agree."

"That got weird...really fast," Garrus commented, before breaking out into a chuckle, slapping Marcus on the back, "Its good to be back."

"Damn right," Marcus sighed, wrapping an arm around his adopted brother's neck as they moved out of the med bay and headed towards the Lounge for a good drink.

_EDI has a new body, I got the Primarch I needed, and Garrus is back onboard. All in all, this depressing day just got better. _

And for a moment, Marcus could forget the war. He had a friend to drink with.

**{Loading...}**

_June 4, 2186_

_1600 hours._

_'Humanity's Sanctum', Upper Levels, Cronos Station, Anadius System._

_The Reaper War._

_The Illusive Man, First Lieutenant Geoff Dielheart._

Cerberus. Humanity's first line of defense. Humanity's financier. Humanity's caretaker. Protectors of Humanity's cradle, Earth. Everything it has done has been for the sake of humanity, of its continuation and continued prosperity, and for its eventual rise to the stars and domination of the Council species, and beyond. Some called them terrorists, but Cerberus weren't terrorists: they were revolutionaries. Fighting a revolution to save mankind from the threat alien species posed, and putting a stop to them; either forcefully, or peacefully, or under-handedly.

So far, they had never resolved anything peacefully. The option just wasn't there.

And it had all started with a man named Jack Harper, a little human insurrectionist who had fought against the turian occupation of Shanxi during the First Contact War of 2157, and had seen first hand the brutality and impunity of the Council races, and what they could do, given the chance. He had met Saren Arterius before he became infamous, he had killed his brother, and he had known about the Reapers since long before Marcus Shepard stopped suckling his mother's breast. He had fought a husk on Shanxi, and he had forged the Manifesto that lead to the birth of humanity's saviours. The Alliance had nicknamed him the 'Illusive Man' due to his anonymous name, and he took the name with pride. He became that identity.

And now, the true leader of humanity, the closest version of the Illuminati there could possibly be in a galaxy like this, sat in his chair at Cronos Station, the headquarters of Cerberus in the Anadius System, looking blindly in the normally blinding sun of Anadius, which they sat in orbit of, his synthetic eyes saved from it due to the heavily tinted glass that rimmed 'Humanity's Sanctum', his own, massive office. He sat with a cigar in his mouth, and glass of whiskey in his hand, smoke rimming around his mouth. His second-in-command, Geoff Dielheart, stood on his right, datapad in hand and reading him the latest reports. Cerberus had grown alot in the past few months, and now they rivalled the military might of the Systems Alliance, but with a rapidly growing empire. All for the goal of defeating the only enemy that mattered at all; the Reapers.

"Petrovsky reports that Omega remains firmly under control sir, and the latest shipment of Atlas and Rampart mechs has just arrived, and Petrovsky's lieutenants are training the latest platoon of reserves. The particle beam weapons lining the station's perimeter are complete, and the population has remained under a tight leash, although the Talon mercenary group is making is fighting a shadow war with his forces; nothing to worry about, he says."

"So everything is fine with Omega. I got the gist of that," TIM stated calmly, as he always did, "How about Eden Prime? Was the CAW Tennessee successful in securing the New Hope colony?"

"Indeed it was sir, and reinforcements have recently arrived to assist in the occupation," Geoff reported, "CAW Tennessee is holding position over the colony and the Fifth Fleet recently arrived to secure the rest of the planet. It has rapidly fallen within our control, and a Cerberus flag currently flies over the capital. Alliance presence is minimal, and they seemed completely unable to respond sir. The Reapers appear to also be giving the system a wide berth sir."

"Good," TIM responded, "Now what about New Hope's ExoGeni excavation site? I want its excavation continued. If they're looking for prothean tech, I want to know about it. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Geoff responded, "Now, you wanted us to recall Kai Leng and the Third Fleet?"

"Yes, I've got a new colony I want under my control, and I want Kai Leng commanding the ground force," TIM stated.

Geoff nodded, tapping these commands into his datapad, a frown popping up on his face, "But...what for, if I may ask? What colony could you possibly want under our control, sir?"

Sighing, TIM spoke once more, glaring into the sun before him, "Noveria. I want Noveria. Specifically, I want Port Hanshan. If Cerberus controls that port, we might be able to cut off Alliance supply lines and Council supply lines, but it would also bolster ours. It is clear they are not taking the Reaper threat seriously enough, and need to be reminded of this fatal mistake. Earth burns while they fumble in the politics. But I also have another reason, conveniently enough, and that lies with those Ex-Cerberus scientists that deserted; the one including Gavin Archer, the scientist behind Project Overlord."

"Those scientists sir?" Geoff asked, flabbergasted, "I was under the impression they were on Gellix, not Noveria."

"They've obviously moved," he deadpanned in response, "They must have known I was on to them, and thought Noveria would be safer. We must show them the error of their ways. This is where Leng comes in; I want to go inside, find the scientists, and execute all of them, including Archer. They wish to betray me, they may do so, but they will not leave alive. Make sure Leng knows that; I'm sure he will be grateful for someone's throat to slit, the witless cutthroat that he is."

"Very well sir," Geoff replied, nodding his ascent, "Should the attack be instantaneous, or do you want-"

"Let the admiral of the Third Fleet decide how he attacks. Once on the ground, Leng calls the shots," TIM declared, "Anything else is out of my ability to care. I want results, and what better way to prove herself as an Admiral than to take Noveria in the name of Cerberus and humanity? Make it happen."

Geoff simply nodded, before looking up one more time for further orders. Seeing he would not be getting any, he quickly made his leave, and TIM simply continued to gaze out at Anadius. Omega was his. Eden Prime was his. He was taking control of Sanctum. Next he would take Noveria, and the real games would begin. If reports remained true, Shepard was currently on Menae, Palaven's moon, which means he would be too distracted to notice Cerberus' military build-up. Titan would be finished in a few months, and then Omega would be materially useless; useful only as a shipyard for his ships; Titan would be the ultimate HQ, and then, and only then, would TIM leave Cronos Station, and make Titan his new headquarters. Everything would fall into place.

He would find out what Eden Prime hid in terms of prothean technology, and it wouldn't be long before his excavations deep into the galactic core would retrieve all the remnants of the Collector technology destroyed by Shepard, and allow him to further advance Cerberus' weaponry to combat the Reaper forces.

Losing Eva was a major set back in his operations, and she had been one of a kind, and he had barely been able to use her. But she could be replaced; all it took was money. Lots of money and resources. He would not be deterred by that setback; and while he hadn't been able to obtain the blue prints to build the prothean superweapon, he knew that without a certain component, something only known as the Catalyst, it could not be fired properly and would be useless.

Now he just had to wait for Noveria to fall. And after that, he would set his eyes on the bigger prize. The most valuable prize of them all.

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_0622 hours._

_Council Offices, Citadel Embassies, Shalta Ward, The Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

As was the same every day in the Embassies, it was crowded full of people, but this was a different kind of crowded. This was a panicked crowded; people from many races dashing about trying to find out what the Council plans to do about the Reapers, what happened to their loved ones, and what was going on in the southern parts of the galaxy, where most of the Reapers were converging. By now, alot of turian refugees had found themselves living in the refugee camp alongside the humans and batarians, some of them turian soldiers ordered to evacuate or even the occassional deserter who was detained by C-Sec, and some of those turians were in the Embassies, trying to find out the status of their families.

And Marcus ignored all of it. If he let himself dwell on it too much, he might collapse. So many people needing help, and he was expected to not only help them, but the entire galaxy? It was a momentous task, and if he left himself cave in now, then there was no way he would be saving those trillions of people. It was a mathematical uncertainty.

_That's what it comes down to, eventually. Mathematics. Choose who lives, and who dies. Its a cruel business, war, but its necessity is born by the need to stop those who would wish it won on their side. Its like General Sherman said in the American Civil War: War is hell._

He was currently here on Spectre business. Apparently the Council had signed and authorized the papers needed to build a facility just for Spectres; a shooting range, a terminal and a vidscreen for keeping up to date with galaxy-wide news. And Marcus, given his reinstated spectre status, was given full access to it. Lucky him. _Might as well check it out. It might have useful intel or gear I can use. _He personally didn't see the point of a spectre's office, especially when the money used to build it could have gone to feeding refugees or simply funding for the prothean superweapon they were building, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth; truth be told, it would be a useful headquarters, as the Reapers seemed to be totally ignoring the Citadel this time around. _Considering Sovereign's attack three years ago, I think the Reapers are planning to wipe us out the old fashioned way; slow, methodical precision. System by system, they'll harvest us piece by piece. And this cycle will probably be alot quicker too, given the fact that the mass relays are still active, which means the Reapers will be able to travel alot faster using the network. We may have gained an advantage, but so have they._

He quickly made his way up the steps and moved to go down the main corridor known as the 'Hall of the Councilors,' as many called it. The spectre office was located on the top left of the corridor, while the commanding officer of the Embassies' garrison of C-Sec had his/her office just left of the stairs. The right was dominated by the Council; Tevos' office was the first one, followed by Valern, and then Sparatus, in order of the species who joined it. At the very end was Udina's office, representing humanity's recent posting to the Council. There was still some flak from the rest of the galaxy over that, especially from the volus, who had been wanting a seat for centuries, and were furious that humanity got one after just three decades of being part of galactic society. Marcus wouldn't gloat, but the circumstances made sense. _Humanity sacrificed an entire fleet to save the Citadel and the Council from a geth fleet lead by a goddamn Reaper. What were the volus doing? Running, because they don't have a military. Point being made; humans saved the galaxy and the Council; I think that qualifies us for a seat._

Normally, whenever he came here, he'd be heading for Udina's office; the man usually wanted to speak with him, or tell him things, and his recent visit had lead to his mission on Menae. But this time he headed for the left side, closing in on the spectre office. The door looked brand new, with steely-grey surface, and a flashing red haptic interface; but there was something different about this interface; it had a rotating circle in the middle; the scanner. Knowing what it was, Marcus moved to raise his omni-tool to show it his spectre credentials, when the door suddenly shot open, and a salarian in black and red light armor stepped out, Hornet SMG strapped to his hip and eyes dashing to and fro from his position. Upon seeing Marcus however, he stopped, eying the human with interest. Then his lips creased in a manner that showed he was suspicious of him.

"Human," the salarian addressed, "Identify yourself. If I find you are working for her, I will have you arrested! I want to know where she is, damn it!"

Marcus, confused, raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "I don't understand, Mr...?"

"Do not play games with me. You know exactly who I am, don't you? Identify yourself IMMEDIATELY!" the salarian was launching himself forward in a flash, Hornet suddenly in his grip as he slammed Marcus against the door of Valern's office, Hornet in his face. Marcus' eyes widened in surprise at the sudden lunge, and he could see people all around them turning to look at them with concern. Marcus' combat reflexes almost immediately kicked in upon being tackled, and he took the salarian completely by shock; his hand grabbed the one holding the SMG and roughly tugged it away, allowing him to duck under the salarian's arm and pin it against his back, slamming him face first into the door.

Marcus moved in closely to his ear, voice a growl as he wasn't in the mood for this bullshit, "You first."

"Enough of the games! Give her up! I will have you reported to the authorities!" the salarian insisted, and weakly tried to break Marcus' grip. He sent a kick into the human's gut; given the circumstances, it normally would have winded him. But given he now had cybernetics riddled through his body, Marcus barely gave a grunt from the impact and merely growled in annoyance as he pushed the salarian harder against the door. The salarian tried numerous other techniques that normally would have broken his hold, but again, the cybernetics won the day. _This guy clearly has military training; possibly SpecOps, given how quick he is. STG, maybe?_

"I've had one hell of a week," Marcus stated firmly, laying it out to the salarian as professionally as he could, "I've been forced to watch entire worlds burn to an enemy I loathe more than anything in this galaxy, and given what I just saw on Menae, I'm not going to tolerate bullshit like this. So you either identify yourself, or I will break every bone in your body, starting with your trigger-finger. Now I'm guessing by how fast you moved that your military, probably SpecOps, and that leads me to assume STG. Am I right?"

"Yes," the salarian gasped, seeming to finally give in, "Ex-STG, however. Been part of the Special Tactics and Reconissance branch of the Citadel for about three years now."

_A Spectre. That explains how he was walking out of the Spectre office...and how he got in. But why did he attack me? _"Identify yourself, and then I want to know why the hell you attacked me."

"Jondam Bau, Special Tactics and Recon," the salarian introduced, rather redundantly, given what he said previously, "And I attacked you because I believed you were following me. Watching me. Keeping an eye on my movements."

Marcus nodded, satisfied with the answer, and therefore let go of him, letting him stand up and turn to face him. Bau nodded his thanks, and holstered his SMG, making sure nothing in his wrist was broken before meeting Marcus' eyes, "You moved extremely fast for a human civilian. Which must mean you are not a civilian. Military? Yes, quite clearly. Special Forces? Yes, N7 maybe?" Seeing Marcus nodded, he gave a nod, "Why were you trying to access the spectre offices, then?"

Marcus gave a half-chuckle, finding some humor out of the awkward situation, "Because like you, I'm a member of the Special Tactics and Recon branch. I'm a Spectre."

"Wait, human? Spectre?" The salarian's eyes seemed to widen with realization, and he took a few seconds to contemplate who he had just tackled into a wall, "Wait, that must mean...you are Commander Marcus Shepard, are you not? I cannot believe I just attacked you. All members of the Spectres have heard about your accomplishments, and how you took out our rogue comrade, Saren Arterius. He was our best member, and for a human to take him out? Yes, you are very popular indeed."

"I'm flattered, believe me," Marcus replied, not enjoying the memories of his battle with Saren all those years ago, and entered full serious mode again, crossing his arms, "But I'm still confused as to what you meant by 'followed.' Why are you worried about someone following you? And so who is this person I'm supposed to 'give up?'"

The salarian, if he could blush, would have done so, completely embarassed by his miscalculation, "A misunderstanding. I believed you were an accomplice of a criminal I was hunting down; one I had tracked to the Citadel, and believed I was being followed so as to update her with my whereabouts."

"I see," Marcus stated, interested by the situation, "And just who is this illustrious criminal you are tracking down? She must be important, if finding her in the middle of a war of extermination is so damn important."

"Oh, it most certainly is. Could harm the war effort, actually," Bau explained, nodding and seeing his fellow spectre's continued confusion, decided to clarify, "She is a Master Thief. Her name is Kasumi Goto, she is of your species. I must admit, I am quite impressed by her skills, and had we not been on opposite ends of the justice system, I might have found an ally in her. Allas, it is not so. She holds crucial intel that could spark war between the Hegemony and the Alliance."

_Really? You're worried about that? Both humanity and the batarians have their homeworlds under siege, and most of their territories are under attack. You really think they'll risk a war? _But that wasn't what surprised him the most, it was who he was chasing. _Kasumi, why must you constantly get in trouble? But is she really here? Damn, Garrus will be happy to hear that. He won't say it, but I know he misses her somewhat, even though they aren't an official couple or anything; just two people flirting with each other constantly. But seriously, what has that thief gotten up to to get a spectre after her? Especially something that could spark a war? _

"Just what does she have that could start this conflict you're worried about?" Marcus queried, genuinely curious.

"She has a greybox, one she 'reacquired' from the late Donovan Hock in his ex-Mansion on Bekenstein," Bau explained, "On this greybox, is information about an Alliance raid on a batarian research facility in Hegemony space. The Hegemony had acquired unidentified alien technology, and were running illegal AI experiments with it. The Alliance received a tip about the facility, and deployed a black ops squad of N7 special forces to investigate and acquire evidence. The raid turned into a massacre; the batarians seemed to see them coming and opened fire on them, almost erratically, reports state. But to cut to the point, as you humans say, the raid was covered up and the Alliance denied being there at all; they made it look like an accident. Of course, on that greybox that Miss Goto has, is evidence that proves otherwise."

Marcus remembered back to one year ago, to what Kasumi had told him about the greybox after they had acquired it from Hock's mansion. _She said there was information on it that Keiji didn't want getting into the wrong hands...so that's what she meant! Keiji wanted to keep his greybox somehow came across the evidence, gridlocked it into his greybox, and then tried everything he could to keep it from falling into batarian hands or any one who really hated humans. It all makes sense now. But why didn't she tell me that?_

_Unless...she doesn't know. Maybe all she knows is that it was important, and that was it. Maybe Keiji kept it a secret from her all the way up to his death just so she wouldn't be in danger. It makes sense..._

"Another piece of interesting information however, is the alien tech itself. It wasn't of our Tier level. The galaxy at present is at a tech tier of 3. The technology they had come across was of a Tier level of 2; light years ahead of our technology, and far beyond anything we could hope to build. And anyone who stayed around it for too long became crazy, and complained of whispering in their minds, and would eventually attempt to kill everyone around them. I think we both see just what this technology was."

_Indoctrination. I don't know how, but the batarians had stumbled upon Reaper technology. That explains why they went crazy and attacked the N7 team; they were all indoctrinated. I'm glad the Alliance blew it up to fake an accident; if they had kept it...the Reapers would have been able to infiltrate the Alliance alot more deeply._

"Reaper tech," Marcus concluded, shaking his head, "Yes, this is very nasty stuff. Please inform me on what you find during your quest. But, Bau, please remember," he placed a hand on the salarian's shoulder, squeezing it, "There's a war going on out there. Any help you can give to aid the effort...hell, I'm building an armada right now. We're going to unite the entire galaxy; we're calling it the United Galactic Confederacy. Join us; we could use men like you aiding the war effort."

"I shall have to consider it. I will contact you through your omni-tool of my decision," Bau told him, sending Marcus his extranet address, "And I won't be alone. I will spread the news, Shepard; every Spectre shall know of what you are building, and together, the Special Tactics and Recon will do what the Council has failed to; we will fight back. You can consider the Spectres part of your...union of species. I will contact you of my success on that topic, as well."

Marcus smiled, nodding, "Thank you Bau. You're a credit to your uniform. Now go capture that thief," he grinned, although this one was for different reasons, and he quickly moved up to the spectre office door, waving his credentials infront of it and opening the door, stepping inside and listening to it shut behind him and lock, the corridor before him lighting up and numerous strobes of blue light dancing over his body as he was decontaminated; for what purpose, he did not know.

As the decon process finished, he grinned, crossing his arms as he looked around, pretending to be oblivious before speaking, seemingly to himself, "You can come out now."

A moment passed, and then another few seconds. Almost half a minute later, Marcus said, in his best threatening voice, "Kasumi, I swear to God. If you don't come out of here now, I will come over there and drag you out myself. Nothing here to fear; just me. Bau's gone."

"You're no fun!" came the usual chirpy voice of the Normandy's mischevious japanese thief, who's arrival could be heard by the crackle of her cloak deactivating, revealing herself to the world once more. He turned behind him to see her leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her breasts. She wore her trademark hood, something she seemed to never pull down, over her head, darkening her face and keeping her face illusive and mysterious, nothing but her eyes twinkling to give any indication that there was life under the hood, and it was that aspect that always reminded him of quarians. Her breasts were medium sized, and her body had the curvy lines of a petite young woman coming into late twenties. He saw the outline of her plump red lips, and the pink line that ran down the middle of her lower lip, along with her flat boots. She sighed, pouting as she remained leaning against the wall, shaking her head, "And I still don't know how you do that. _Dozo?_"

His translator picked out that pretty well, and he laughed, shaking his own head, "That secret will remain with me to my grave. But I might spill to Tali."

"Please don't. Scaring the hell out of her is so much fun, especially when I do it with a spider dangling from my hand. You should have been there to see it; she was hunting me all over the ship for days afterwards," she grinned, sighing as she stood up, "But seeing how you won't tell me, I'll be on my way. See you around Shep."

She moved to cloak and walk away, but he grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him, "Oh no you don't. I've been locked up for six months, and haven't been able to see a single friend of mine since then. So far I've met a few more, but meeting another one is an added bonus. You don't just get to sneak into the Spectre offices, say hi, and then disappear again. Especially not with that salarian spectre chasing after you."

"But its so much fun to lead him on wild goose chases! And the way he attacked you; thinking you were my accomplice! Shep, I want you to now go over to that chinese place on the Presidium, and I want you steal some noodles for me, okay? And none of that spicy stuff. Hurts my tongue too much."

"Kasumi, seriously," he stated, the grin dropping from his face, "Talk to me. You may think I'm an old groutch who blows up things and finds it fun, but you are someone I call a friend, and you are my wife's best friend, so that puts you up a notch. Not to mention my brother's...ah...paramour...?"

Kasumi seemed to take that seriously, and immediately tore her arm from his grip, glaring at him and poking out her tongue, "Garrus is not my 'paramour,' you silly idiot. We flirt, we kiss as a joke, and that's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing will become of it..."

"I said the same of my attraction to Tali once upon time," Marcus grinned, teasing her and finally having the upperhand, "Look how that changed..."

"Oh..." Kasumi tried to think of an adequate insult but, being unable to conjure one, simply growled and gave up, "Fine! You win this time, Shep, but be sure I'll get you back. And you won't see me coming when you do."

"I'm sure," he replied dryly, chuckling as he shook his head, "So apart from getting a salarian on your tail, just what have you been up to?"

"Doing what you wanted us to do. Prepare the galaxy, for all the good it did," she sighed, moving past him as he followed her into the main office, "Mostly did some research into Reaper tech, and stole it from unaware, wealthy cosmopolitans and metrosexuals. The usual affair, but with alot more drama."

"Metrosexuals?" he questioned, coming to a stop, "Really?"

"I'm eccentric, Shep. Thought you knew that by now. Its what gives me my...style," she waved her arms in the air to exaggerate her point, giggling slightly afterwards as she looked in wonder at the room around her, "Very fancy, Shep. I could make a fortune stealing stuff from this place."

"Look, but don't touch, Miss Goto," Marcus warned, his voice full of mock threats, "I am a Spectre you know."

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper," she pouted, poking her tongue out of him as seemed to be a habit with her when she didn't get her away and leapt up onto a nearby crate, crossing her legs as she sat ontop of it in a humble Japanese fashion, a grin on her face as she looked at him, "_Kuso kurae!_"

He frowned at her as he came to stop before the main terminal, "My translator isn't picking up that one."

"For good reason," she commented, smiling, "It is not a word my mother would tolerate coming from my mouth. She would have slapped me."

"A swear word?"

"Typically."

"What does it mean?"

"Not telling."

"Come on, Kasumi..."

"Nope. Nada. Not going to happen. A thief has secrets!"

"You're impossible."

"Look who's talking!"

He waved his hands in the air, fed up with her behaviour before surrendering and turning back to the console, bringing up its contents on the screen before him; nothing really of note, just a repeat of what he already knew; Khar'Shan and Earth fallen, Palaven under siege, Sur'Kesh and Tuchanka threatened, Sur'Kesh more so due to its species possessing a more threatening military force. Nothing he didn't already know. God, he wished it would give him useful information. _Like how to secure a krogan-turian alliance without Wrex crushing Victus' wind pipe..._

"What ya lookin at, Shep?"

He almost jumped from the voice suddenly speaking over his shoulder, and he turned to her, shaking his head as he turned back to the screen, ignoring the smug look on her face, "Just news reports. Nothing I didn't already know. Hasn't yielded anything actually interesting or particularly...offsetting."

"The news is useless," Kasumi pointed out, jumping up and sitting on the railing next to him, pulling out an apple from her pocket and taking a bite from it, talking as she chewed, _loudly_, "I, for one, don't trust it at all. That's why I go find out things for myself. Speaking of such things..." she opened her omni-tool and searched through numerous items before selecting one, Marcus' terminal suddenly beeping with new data, "...I just sent one such event that should please you greatly. From yours truly, the bad people in white and gold."

He turned to the terminal, and found a data packet labelled, quite comically, 'Bad People doing Bad Things.'

"How eloquently put," Marcus dryly commented, and all he was an apple hit the side of his temple, causing him to rub the sore spot after yelling 'ow!'

"I didn't have time to worry about naming it something appropriate, so I came up with that!" she justified, "Besides...I think its appropriate."

Shaking his head in mirth, he quickly lost his grin as he opened the data packet and began to read through it. And the more he read, the more serious he became. When he was done, he deactivated the terminal and simply stood there, not knowing what to think of the information he had just been given. Finally, Kasumi spoke up, gulping down her apple chunk and speaking with a voice of curiosity.

"So...am I good, or am I the best thief in the galaxy? I personally believe the latter, but if you want to put it up for debate later, I'm more than open to talk."

"Kasumi, how did you get your hands on this? This isn't well known," Marcus asked, turning to face her with a fierceness in his eyes that even took the petite thief by surprise, but she quickly regained her chirpy composure and smiled.

"I might have stumbled upon a bad person who was an idiot and left his draw open so I may have stolen his datapad full of evil plans, and brought it to you?" she stated, shrugging, "I was actually considering giving it to Bau as a token present for being so persistent in his search for me, but seeing you here, I thought it better to give to you. Noone hates Cerberus more than the crew of the good old Normandy clan."

"Bau?" he asked, eyes widening in shock, trying to comprehend _that _certain confuffle.

"Yeah, I really like him. He's a good man, and he's very much like me. He's smart, quick on his feet, and he seems to know what I'm doing before I do. He's...amazing. We'd have made excellent partners in crime!" she gossiped, grinning like an idiot.

"But he's the spectre currently chasing you," he deadpanned, "As in the one trying to put you _behind bars. _Bring you to justice."

"Well..." she began, before just exhaling, shrugging nonchatantly in the way that she did with matters she gave no thought to, "...nobody's perfect."

He sighed again, something he found himself doing alot around Kasumi, and braced against the terminal, rubbing his eyes, "This type of information could get you killed, Kasumi, especially if it got out that you had it. The Illusive Man is on bad terms with us as enough as it is; he doesn't need you feeding intel reports of his operations to his one archenemy."

"I'm sorry, but do you remember why you recruited me to begin with, Shep?" Kasumi quiered, giving him the 'looking down at the glasses' look as she smirked, "I'd make a joke about stealth being my middle name, but that's too mainstream...and not strictly true. So I'm just going to say...I have a cloak! I'm a Master Thief! Cerberus, catch me if you can! Besides, this was just too much to let pass up, and even you can't argue with the results."

"No, I suppose I can't," he turned back to look at the data, inhaling and exhaling, "So Cerberus has invaded Eden Prime, have they? I know Cerberus has taken Omega, but why does Cerberus need Eden Prime? Omega has tactical value, but the Utopia System is bordering on Reaper-controlled territory. What use is it?"

"Prothean tech. And lots of it," Kasumi replied, "Apparently ExoGeni, at a little colony called New Hope, were excavating a massive signature they had found; it was a prothean _treasure trove, _Shep! And its said to be a mile longer and deeper than the Archives."

"Holy shit, really? And Cerberus might get their hands on it? Fuck that," Marcus growled, knowing now this was important, "Once we're stocked up, I'm heading straight for Eden Prime. I can't just let Cerberus have access to a prothean archive, and especially not unchecked. They need to be stopped."

"Better to be careful Shep," the thief warned, "Cerberus has a whole fleet protecting their new prize, and alot of troops. I mean, you'd need more than just the Normandy and its squad to retake the entire planet."

Marcus was at a loss, until he remembered just what resources he had at his disposal. But first, he had to secure that prothean site before Cerberus got their hands on it, "Kasumi, I just happen to have more. Thank you for this info, it was a great help." He moved to leave.

"Anytime, Shep."

Her voice made him stop, and he slowly turned around, his eyes meeting hers. She simply shrugged, giving him a look of 'what? Is it something I said?' behind her hood. He shook his head, turning his body fully towards her, smiling, "Kasumi, I think I forgot to ask this, and I'm going to anyway, even if you don't like it. Miss Goto, I'm going to ask you to rejoin the Normandy crew."

She rolled her eyes very noticably, clearly not sold on that idea, "No way Shep. You already dragged me into a suicide mission, you're not dragging me into a war."

"I could use your help Kasumi. Besides, you're a good friend," Marcus pleaded not so bluntly, "It would be fantastic to have you back on the crew."

"I'm a thief, not a soldier!" she threw back, as more emotion creeped into her voice, "I steal _objects, _not _lives_. How do you expect me to be of any use when the best I can do is play wack-a-mole with husks?"

"Don't play that game. I've seen you with an SMG and a pistol. Combined with that cloak of yours, the enemy rarely see you coming, and you're a pretty good shot with that Locust SMG that killed two presidents," he gave her a knowing wink, "You'd be an asset. You'd not only be useful as stealth recon, but as stealth infiltration. You'd put most N7 infiltrators to shame."

"Well, I do know how to make the best of them blush, I guess," she seemed to ponder, before shaking her head, "I can't believe you're making me think about this! My answer is no! I don't want to be involved in a galactic war! I'm not a soldier! I don't kill people for a living! I'm not that kind of person! And I won't let you turn me into that kind of person!"

That hurt Marcus deep inside, but Kasumi wouldn't know that; he never showed it. It hurt because it was true; he had turned good people into soldiers. Warriors. _Tali. Liara. Garrus. Lia. Wre-oh, wait. Wrex was already a blood-thirsty bastard. My own __**wife**__, the person I fell in love with because she was selfless and cute, and I turned her into a goddamn warrior. _He remembered with crystal clarity what had happened last year when Cerberus and the Shadow Broker (the one before Liara) raided the Rayya, and what she had done to the captain of the Cerberus vessel...how she had slowly cut off his genitals, before slitting his throat..._My god...the __**look **__in her eyes...the innocence I came to love was just gone. And then she apologized afterwards, and that was all my fault. I made her into that. I transformed her into a killer. Can I really blame Kasumi for not wanting to be like that? Can I really convince her to not turn away?_

But then it hit him. This is war. The entire galaxy was facing extinction; there was no such thing as a civilian anymore; everyone was a soldier, whether they liked it or not. They had to fight to survive the apocalypse, and if they didn't, they'd be swept aside and harvested. Kasumi **was **a soldier; maybe not a professional, but she was.

"You don't have to be a cold-blooded killer to be a soldier, Kasumi," he explained to her, "You just have to do what's right. Look at the First American Civil War. They didn't fight the war because they loved killing or because they were exceptionally good at it, they killed because their state's sovereignty was being threatened, and were fighting for their family and their freedom and rights to be independent. They fought because it was right, and they fought to survive. That is what we must all do now; fight and survive. We fight or we die. Kasumi, you either jump in the wagon or be left behind, and I don't want to see you left behind. We are all soldiers now, even the doctors and the politicians and the ordinary farmer. Even thieves."

"I..." Kasumi, unable to argue with that logic, merely sighed in defeat, shaking her head, "I just don't know, Shep. I don't know if I'm ready for that. Fighting in one mission to save the galaxy was one thing...to fight many battles across the galaxy to save it from an enemy that shows no weakness, fear or mercy? How could I possibly add up? You're an N7, and your squad is full of trained soldiers. I'm just a thief who tagged along for the ride and just happened to be good with an SMG. I don't know if I can handle that."

He thought about it for a second, before smiling grimly, meeting her eyes, "And what if I told you something, Kasumi?"

"What?"

"What if I told you Garrus was on the Normandy. Right now," he asked, frowning down at her, "Would you join then?"

"I'd tell you you're lying just to lure me onto the ship," she sternly replied, but seeing the look in his face, exhaled, "But you're not that kind of person. So Garrus is back on the Normandy, huh?"

"Yep, and he won't say it, but I believe he's missed you," he grinned, "The teasing, the jokes, the flirting...I think he's missed all of it. To be honest, I think he has a thing for you. He'll want to keep you around."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, "Really? He really misses me? Well that's a first. Although I'm sure he'd be useless without me to give him all his comedic comebacks and insults. He did learn from the best," she seemed to ponder this, before sighing, meeting his eyes, "I'll think about it, Shep. I'll...really think about it. But for now, I'm going to have to respectfully decline. I'm sorry. But I will think about it."

"I won't force you Kasumi. Just letting you know that the option is open. Goodbye," and he turned and left, hoping to meet her again someday.

Kasumi's response was a bare whisper, "See ya, Shep." And seeing him leave, knowing the Normandy would also leave soon, her decision was made.

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_0700 hours._

_Gunnery Station, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

In the quiet humming of the gunnery control station of the stealth frigate stood the lone form of a turian expert marksman by the name of Garrus Vakarian, doing his infamous 'calibrations' on the thanix cannon; a turian equivalent of the technology used to build a Reaper's thanix cannon, and just as powerful. He hummed a turian tune silently to himself, clicking his mandibles along to the beat as he typed into the terminal before him, checking to make sure all the specs were up to date and not disorderly.

He was so enthralled in his work, that he didn't notice the door open and close, seemingly by itself as noone entered.

He didn't hear the silent footsteps sneaking up behind him, or the barely noticable wift of breath on his ear. He didn't notice any of it until it was too late, "SO, Garrus! How's it going!"

He nearly jumped forward in fright, completely taken aback by the sudden voice of a certain thief bursting his ear drum. He spun around to face the laughing thief, who was simply looking at him with a ridiculous grin, arms clasped behind her back and looking absolutely above herself with mirth.

"Ka...Kasumi? By the spirits, what the hell?" Garrus exclaimed, "How...how the hell did you get in here? Since when were you on the crew?"

"As of now," she continued to smirk smugly, Garrus quickly recomposing himself and regaining some dignity as he stood back up, looking down at the petite japanese woman, "And what kind of a greeting is that? I'm back! Ready to make your life a living hell once more, and to give you inside tips on how to make Shep blush redder than an apple, and apples are delicious."

"I could say the same thing to you, Kasumi," he retorted.

"What, making me blush, or the greeting?" she shot back, smirking at his sudden embarassment, "Oh Garrus, you want to make me blush? And how, oh how, would you make that happen?"

"I...uh...well...um...Spirits damn you," he replied.

"Oh come now, don't be like that."

"You haven't given me a reason _not _to be."

"But we're best pals!" Kasumi replied, leaning on one hip as she crossed her arms, "And we're going to have so much fun! Like me constantly ruining your calibrations!"

"You're lucky I never found my assault rifle in time during those days. Noone messes with my calibrations," Garrus warned.

"Oh no, the dino doesn't want me messing up his calibrations," Kasumi teased, "What ever shall I do. Come now, don't be so unimaginative. Death threats should be a person's last resort in terms of comebacks."

"And what would you suggest instead?"

"Petnames."

He didn't like where this was going, "Like...?" He realized too late what she meant.

"Oh...I don't know, like...Garbear?" She grinned, "Ah yes, Garbear. That's perfect."

He groaned, and all he could hear, like the laughter of an evil mastermind, was Kasumi's giggling.

"I hate you. Spirits, I really do."

**"Kasumi rejoined the crew. Can't have been all that bad. And it gave her and Garrus more time to...establish...their relationship."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"They really were confused over whether they actually liked each other or not. How absurd is that? Even we figured it out quicker."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Cut to the chase. You mentioned Cerberus controlling Eden Prime. What occurred during that period?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"We retook Eden Prime, and found a prothean relic buried for fifty thousand years. You see, we were expecting a beacon, or a library like on Mars, or, hell, even just a buried building, but we never expected what we found. It would change our understanding of the Reapers and of the protheans forever."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Sorry this took so long; I had some serious writer's block in the making of this chapter; but its all good now! Turns out reading some fanfiction with Tali as the romance is good inspiration to keep writing; especially when those fanfics are dead.**_

_**You may have noticed that some sections were inspired (or borrowed heavily) from Kasumi and Garrus' interactions in Razor's Edge, a fanfic I strongly recommend you check out, it is brilliant. For example, the idea of Shepard finding out about Eden Prime from Kasumi was Tairis' (I think that's how its spelt) idea and came directly from Razor's Edge: Requiem, along with the argument of Shepard trying to get Kasumi to join. Yet again, so was much of the Shadow Broker scenes from III: Requiem, but hey, how could I not? Not only do they seem like things the characters would do, but its realistic and logical, and that's what I'm aiming for. Another thing borrowed is the nickname 'Garbear.' I don't particularly know if Tairis came up with that or not, but either way, I do plan on using it alot; its funny! **_

_**There will be many other things inspired by other fanfics, but largely from Razor's Edge.**_

_**Next up, From Ashes DLC. That chapter's going to be split up into two parts, and you'll soon find out why. Essentially, this is how it'll go:**_

_**Part 1: From Ashes DLC.**_

_**Part 2: Liberation of Eden Prime.**_

_**Its going to be pretty cool, if it all works out well. So, I hope you look forward to it!**_

_**And please review!**_


	11. Chapter 10 From Ashes Pt1

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TEN:**

**FROM ASHES PART ONE**

_June 5, 2186_

_1549 hours._

_Cabin, UT-47A Kodiak Combat Shuttle, Descending upon Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

Marcus quickly checked his weapons, to make sure they were loaded and working. His mattock seemed to be in perfect working order, and while he did enjoy the punch the heavy rifle packed, it simply didn't compare to the geth pulse rifle he once had; he missed that rifle almost as much as he missed Tali. Checking that his modded scope was in place, he holstered his rifle and then picked out his recently purchased claymore shotgun, courtesy of Aria. He smiled at the size of the weapon, and how he was the only person outside of the krogan species that could lift and fire the weapon without dislocating their shoulder; and it was worth it, as the heavy shotgun could reduce entire bodies into pulps of red ichor with just a single shell. Being krogan made, this was not surprising.

Watching his human brother switching through his many different weapons caused Garrus to stir, mandibles creasing in amusement, "You just couldn't help yourself, could you Marcus?"

The human gave the turian a quick glance, a grin splitting his lips, "Damn right. I'd have bought Tali one, if she could have lifted it."

"Nothing beats a claymore heavy shotgun as an anniversary gift for your wife. Although I'd imagine she'd get no end of joy out of making a certain turian wet himself in fear simply by mentioning it," Garrus seemed to cringe at the memories of Tali threatening to bring out her shotgun every time he tried to tease her.

Kasumi was in on the action pretty quickly, the young thief finding quite alot of mirth from the situation, "Luckily for you, Tali wouldn't be able to fire that without breaking a few bones in her arm, so you're safe; for now. Although I'm sure she doesn't need the claymore to scare you; her shotgun was clearly enough."

"She has her shotgun, but I can buy a pet spider," Garrus grinned, "Let us see who wins that battle."

"Well, Garrus will be dead, and the spider will be nonexistent mush after Tali's done trampling it," Marcus added.

"Too true. So...forget the pet spider, then," the turian sighed, shaking his head, "I just can't win. But...I do have more kills than her! Why? Because I have a sniper rifle! That's why."

"If you're going to have a fight about which is better, than you better gather your allies. Tali has her krogan uncle, along with her krogan baby brother," Kasumi added, laughing.

"I have Thane...maybe Zaeed, if enough money's involved," Garrus countered.

"Krogan, Garrus. _Krogan_," Marcus repeated, waiting for it to sink in, but the turian didn't seem to get the point. It was at this point, James came to the rescue.

"Don't be such a _bravuconeria, _Scars. I've fought with a krogan, and those tough sons of bitches, especially if there is two of them, will soak up all your bullets before you're able to kill 'em."

"Not if I aim for the crest," Garrus pointed out, "But I would never do that to Wrex or Grunt. It'd be unfair."

"Tell that to Wrex's biotics," Marcus mumbled, enjoying this immensely.

"I'm rooting for Team Krogan here," Cortez called out from the cockpit.

"Oh come on, does anyone appreciate the sniper rifle here?" he turned to look at Keeling, practically pleading with his best impression of puppy-dog eyes, although he failed, and ended up looking more intimidating then cute.

Keeling shrugged her shoulders, seeming to not care, "I'm a CQC specialist, although I don't use shotguns, I use assault rifles. Sniper rifles are useful for long range, shotguns for short. But any CQB specialist worth their position can sneak up behind a sniper's nest and take them out, and any sharpshooter intelligent enough to realize his or her position will be flanked, will relocate. In the end, neither wins, but both do. It just depends on the situation."

"Lieutenant Keeling's analysis is correct," EDI surmized, everyone turning to look at the synthetic. James and Keeling had been initially edgy at seeing Ex-Eva's body moving around, but when they found out it was EDI, they calmed down, with James even commenting that she now 'sexy hot robot home' in Eva's body. Joker's response had been one of absolute shock and thrill, commenting that he was 'no longer sitting next to a naggy pawn AI that doesn't get jokes yet, but next to a naggy pawn AI that doesn't get jokes yet...in a sexy robot body!' So no worries on Joker's part. Kasumi was weirded out, but seemed to get used to it. Overall, EDI's corporeal status was accepted well among the crew, "Which makes this entire debate irrelevant. In any event, only the circumstances or environment will prove or disprove either side's assertion."

There was a dull silence for a while, until James decided to speak again, "Okay then. But who cares! Team Krogan WINS, putas. Even the pilot agrees," then he spoke deliberately louder, making sure the pilot could hear him, even if he wasn't talking to him directly, "Even if he doesn't know shit about combat, sitting in that little pilot seat of his!"

"At least I didn't trash it!" Cortez retorted, and James merely laughed.

"I am confused. I initially believed this was a logical, serious debate. But the increase in humurous fractures in the facial structure of everyone around us, and the humorous vocal noises, imply some comedic tone I have not recognized," EDI observed.

Garrus held back a chuckle, leaning in and whispering into Marcus' ear, "'Humurous fractures in the facial structure?' Either EDI doesn't get the humor, or she just insinuated I have a fractured face." Although they didn't hear Garrus' jokes, almost everyone laughed at EDI's misunderstanding; even Keeling seemed to crack a little smirk.

"I will have to file this under 'things to understand about organics,'" EDI stated, and the shuttle returned to its previous state.

The mission had been quite a different turn of game; instead of fighting a Reaper occupation, they were fighting a Cerberus occupation. As soon as the Normandy had arrived in system, their stealth had rendered them invisible to the large Cerberus fleet in the system. Deploying in their equally stealth capable shuttle, they had deployed to the surface, honing in on Colony New Hope, where a Cerberus Destroyer seemed to be hovering, one which EDI had quickly identified as the CAW Tennessee. The ship was holding a stationary orbit over the colony, acting as a quick response vessel; they'd have to hope Cerberus didn't get that desperate for air support.

And so the shuttle quickly descended, Cortez getting them as close as possible without being spotted by Cerberus troops. They landed at the edge of a cliff face, where the hatch shot open and the squad proceeded to deploy, Marcus staying behind to give Cortez his final orders, "I'll call for extraction as soon as we've secured and identified this prothean artifact."

"Copy that captain," Cortez replied, nodding as he kept his eyes focused on the controls before him, "I'll do a couple of sorties around the colony until you call for pickup. I'll remain above the clouds, so they don't spot me."

"Good man," he gripped the man's shoulder one more time before turning and leaping out of the shuttle, unholstering his rifle before he came to impact the ground. The kodiak gave a final roar of its engines, before it then ascended and shot off into the atmosphere, moving to hide above the bright white clouds. As he turned, he surveyed the planet's surroundings, remembering his first time here when geth had invaded. He had visited this planet three times during his travels now, and three different colonies.

_I visited Colony Euphoria three years ago when I was on the Normandy SR-1, and that was to fight off a geth invasion; this was effectively where my entire journey began. Then a year ago, I was lured to Colony Ohio as part of a Collector plan to abduct my crew. And now I'm here once more to secure a prothean artefact, and to liberate the planet from a Cerberus occupation. First geth, now Cerberus. This planet doesn't get a break, does it?_

He turned away from Eden Prime's beautiful landscape and scenic views, and turned back to his squad, who were waiting in formation for him. Keeling had taken point, body pressed against one of the buildings and her Valkyrie heavy rifle out, scanning the area ahead. James was crouched behind her, helmet on and Revenant hefted on one arm. Garrus was lazily hanging back, waiting for Marcus with Liara, who's omni-tool was open and scanning the area, Kasumi, and EDI.

As Marcus approached, Liara turned towards him, deactivating her omni-tool as she did, "Eden Prime. This is where it all began, wasn't it?"

"It certainly was. Its where I first encountered Sovereign, the geth and heard of Saren," he sighed, breathing in Eden Prime's fresh air, "The nostalgia would be complete if Kaidan were here. He was here with me, along with Jenkins and a turian spectre named Nihlus Kryik..." he shook his head, sighing at the memories, "Both of them are dead now; both died on this very planet on that very day, one betrayed by Saren and one gunned down because I gave him a command without correct knowledge of the enemy. But...this is also where I...well..."

"Met Ashley," Garrus finished, "We know, Marcus."

"Yeah," he replied back, the memories not so enlightening anymore. _What would Ashley be thinking right now if she were alive? 'Let's kick some Cerberus ass, skipper.' Yeah, that sounds like her. Then she'd recite some of her father's poetry. _He had lost two men that fateful day three years ago but in reality, he had lost three the moment he recruited Ashley: gone in a blaze of nuclear fire. _It was either her or Kaidan; but what would have happened if I had saved her instead?_

"Yeah...those were the times. Saren and his geth launching their campaign to bring back the Reapers," Marcys recollected, and then his mind settled on a very particular, unsettling memory, "And where I encountered the prothean beacon, and got my vision that warned us of the Reapers. And now it seems that Eden Prime's colonists are under attack...again."

"I remember hearing the reports about the geth attack," Garrus recounted, shaking his head and clenching his mandibles in anger, "I was busting my ass to find evidence against Saren, but in the end it just proved worthless. I'm glad you turned up; otherwise we'd all be dead by now, or close enough. There I was, strapped in by bueracracy while Saren was out blasting that same bueracracy apart with an army of cold, emotionless killer machines."

"You always did prefer a straight up fight," Marcus quipped.

"And you're always so good at helping me find them," Garrus retorted.

Liara, deciding the banter had enough time to thrive, stepped in, rubbing her temples, "Cerberus has hit this place hard," she motioned to the smoke and fire in the background, and the destroyer that loomed over them, grimly reminding them of the Cerberus fleet in orbit, "Whatever they found here was worth a major offensive; meaning this prothean artefact must be more than a simple artefact. There are survivors of the colony all over the planet, and some of them actually seem to be putting up resistance, but...they killed everyone near the dig site. None of the members of the ExoGeni team survived."

Marcus raised both his eyebrows at her, impressed by her knowledge, "You knew all of that just by a scan of the area?"

"Scanning? No, I was contacting my agents in the resistance," she snorted, smirking up at him, "I'm a very good Shadow Broker."

"I'm glad you're on our side," Garrus noted, and all three of them shared a laugh. After a bit, they got back into full business mode, Marcus pushing past them and moving towards where Keeling and James were stationed, speaking as he did, "But as it is, we're about to engage a Cerberus occupation in full-scale combat over an artefact of a nature we don't understand or can discern. Did any of your contacts have a clue of what this thing is?"

"None. ExoGeni were in the middle of digging when Cerberus invaded," she informed him, "But from what my contacts can discern, they observed that Cerberus seemed to immediately continue digging after the surrounding area was secured, meaning they really wanted whatever was done there dug up in a hurry; I don't think they plan on staying. If anything, their fleet in orbit is merely to make sure any attempts by the Alliance to liberate the colony are halted before they can stop them digging it up."

"Not that the Alliance can afford the ships to do so," Marcus contemplated, "Very well. Liara, give us the navpoint to the dig site, and we'll head over there; kill any Cerberus soldiers that get in our way. We can't afford to be making this silent, and we need to secure this site quickly and efficiently," he arrived at the forward position, dropping low next to Keeling and speaking in a whisper, "Lieutenant, what have we got?"

"Area ahead looks clear of hostiles. But my HUD is picking up twelve plus hostiles at the edge of my motion tracker though; seem to be moving in a standard patrol pattern. I haven't seen any aircraft of any description, so our eyes will probably need to be kept on the skies to make sure they don't get the jump. The Destroyer won't fire us and it can't launch an airstrike; it would risk damage to the dig site and of any collateral damage, although knowing Cerberus, the former is more probable. The buildings are packed tightly enough that we'll get plenty of cover, and the dig site, according to T'Soni's recent navpoint, indicates a distance of 400 meters to the dig site. We might encounter a bit of resistance, but nothing we can't neutralize. Just waiting for your go, Captain."

"We'll split up and hit from both sides," Marcus declared, "Keeling, you take James and Liara and hit from the left. I'll take Kasumi, Garrus and EDI and hit from the front; we'll divert all their forces into a chokepoint, and you can hit the rear and crush them."

"Solid copy captain," Keeling replied, turning back to look ahead. She raised a closed fist and thumped it against her chest, before unclenching it and shooting it forwards, motioning for them to push forward. And within that instant, Keeling was gone, moving at a fast pace, legs bent and weapon raised as she moved, James taking up position behind her, and Liara, after nodding at the three left behind, pulled out her SMG and quickly followed suit.

Seeing that they were gone, Marcus turned back to his team, nodding to the three of them, "Okay squad, let's move it out. Garrus, you're our sniper; find a position and keep to it. If it gets too hot, just relocate. But I want you to be our eyes, you got me?"

"Read you clear Marcus," Garrus nodded, pulling out his Reaper sniper rifle and quickly moving over to a nearby ladder. Just as the turian began to climb onto the top of the bunker, he turned back to Kasumi and EDI, "You two are with me. Garrus will provide sniper support, we'll draw them out. Kasumi, you're stealth recon, you move on ahead. EDI, I don't quite know your abilities, so give me the summary."

EDI nodded, although the gesture was awkward and clasped her hands behind her back, "I possess some basic technological abilities; you could classify me as a 'combat engineer,' much like Tali. I have recently downloaded an incineration ability, much like Professor Solus', and an overload ability, much like Tali's. However, this synthetic platform possesses unique combat capabilities not present in other platforms, not even geth."

His interests peaked he nodded, "Continue."

"I possess a program labelled 'Defense Matrix,'" she explained, and then her eyes went blank for a second, staring into nothing. But it only lasted for a microsecond, and then a loud grinding of gears and the sound of metal slamming against metal was heard, and they all watched as numerous bits of armoured plating, previously detached, spun into place, encasing the synthetic in grey, steel armour. At that moment, EDI looked at them again, "As you can see, it reinforces my forward armour plating by 60 percent. I can even take a different hit from a missile and only lose 30 percent of my integrity. It also gives an added boost to my kinetic barriers, however minute."

"I wish I had something like that," Kasumi commented, hands on her hips as she admired EDI's makeshift armour, "Yet again, I'm a thief."

He ignored that snarky comment and moved to ask her what other abilities she had when she seemed to read his mind, and spoke once more, "I have one final ability unique to his unit. Decoy, it is called. It allows me to deploy a holographic representation of myself to fool the enemy." As an example, she turned away from them and one crackle of energy later, what appeared to be a clone of EDI erupted from her body, mindlessly sprinting forward. Eventually it ran into a wall, and simply stood there. After a moment, it crackled, and then winked out of existence. She turned back to them, and Marcus was practically grinning.

"I'm starting to like your new platform EDI. I can't remember Legion being able to do that," he shook his head, "But I should have sent you with Keeling. Kasumi already fits in as a combat engineer, and Keeling's team doesn't have one at all. Damn it. I just hope you know what you're doing EDI; I don't want Cerberus hacking that mech."

"My firewalls are at maximum. It would take your wife three years to crack through the encryption, and the entire geth consensus, all united, two minutes."

"You had me at 'my wife can't do it,'" he chuckled, "If even Tali can't crack it, I have nothing to worry about. Come on, Garrus is probably wondering what's-"

"-keeping you?" the turian finished for them, "I most certainly am; Keeling's in position and waiting for your orders. Says she has the back of the 'Cerberus bastards' in sight and she's ready to kick some pro-human, xenophobic ass. Her words, not mine, although I do find them quite enlightening. It shows alot about her personality. I think Ashley and herself would have gotten along nicely."

"Indeed," he grinned, motioning to the narrow alleyway behind a few bunkers nearby, "Come on, we'd better get moving. Cerberus isn't going to wait all day, and we've got a dig site to investigate."

The first human spectre took point, his AI and master thief compatriot taking up position behind him as they moved forward, clearing the empty alleyways of the colony. They continued on ahead, but before they reached the Cerberus position, the smell of...death, reached their nostrils. As he sniffed, he knew he wouldn't like it just from smelling it, and when he turned the corner, he could feel Kasumi behind him spinning back around and making disgusted grunting sounds. Even he narrowed his eyes at the sight.

A pile of human bodies lay just infront of them; dozens of them, all of them long dead, either torn apart pieces or riddled with bullets. An odd looking animal, something Jenkins had said were called a 'gas bag,' currently hung around it, seemingly interestes in the smell of rotting flesh. It was horrible; some of them wore civilian garb, and some wore the stand-outish grey uniform of ExoGeni employees. _All of them murdered...and then Cerberus just dumped their bodies here and left them to rot._

He saw a human male's head poking out, and as he got closer, he felt that he recognized it. And when he kneeled down and turned the man's head over, lifeless eyes meeting his, his eyes widened, and he quickly dropped the head and backed away, even more repulsed then he already was. _Powell. That was his name. I met him three years ago; when I was at Colony Euphoria. Bloody lazy shithead had been taking a nap on the job when the attack hit, and was responsible for stealing munitions from the Alliance 212 garrison. And he just happened to be here...and this time his luck didn't hold out it seems..._

He turned away, and saw that Kasumi was refusing to turn around, while EDI seemed to survey the pile with a look of calm, unable to comprehend the emotion of 'disgust.' She turned towards him, features calm as she spoke, "Cerberus was responsible for this. I have found numerous foot prints and handprints that correspond with that of recent Cerberus body armor configurations."

"As if we needed those to find out who did it," Marcus dryly noted, "There's only one faction capable of such barbary. Of such disrespect."

"I see it," Garrus crackled over the comms, "And Cerberus will pay for every drop spilt. The Illusive Man has alot to answer for here. Not as much as the Reapers do, but alot. The man who claims to 'stand for human ascendance' sure has no qualms about killing innocent _human _civilians, hypocritical bastard."

"Only further proof that he's indoctrinated. A Reaper puppet. And Cerberus along with him," he sighed, turning to march away, "Come on, we've got a mission to do. At least we'll get to kill some of the assholes who did this. Maybe link up with some resistance members, if there's any left in this colony."

They moved on, and quickly turned left, coming across the men Keeling had been talking about. There was an open courtyard, littered with numerous crates stamped with the Alliance or ExoGeni logos, while a bunker overlooked the entire area, a staircase leading up to it, extending diagonally from the right. And in the courtyard and staircase, was a squad of Cerberus. At least eight assault troopers stood in the courtyard, avenger and vindicator rifles in hand and moving back and forth with methodical precision, their patrol patterns meticulous and repetitive. The squad's centurion stood in his bulky armor at the top of the staircase, mattock heavy rifle held tightly in his grip and standing perfect vigil over the yard. He also saw a single combat engineer, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and looking over data on an omni-tool, turret strapped to his back. The other two he didn't recognize, but seemed to have a helmet enveloped in a large orange visor, and held no visible weapons. _I didn't encounter that on Mars...possibly a unit we haven't engaged before..._

He commed his radio to both teams, "All combat teams, we have eight assault troopers, one centurion, one combat engineer present in the courtyard. We have two plus hostiles of unknown classification; unarmed, but looking mean, over. Could be a possible commanding units, over. Proceed with discretion; Vakarian, keep an eye on them. Keeling, please confirm you see the bogies."

A moment, followed by a response, "We read you, five-by-five. Hostiles identified and tagged. Vega will deal with them; T'Soni and I are ready to proceed; we've picked our targets and are ready to fire."

"Vakarian here," Garrus declared, "Keeping those two bogies in my peripheral and have my scope set on the centurion. Ready to engage on your command."

"I know what I'm going to do," Kasumi winked, before disappearing into cloak, "See ya later, Shep." And then she was gone.

EDI raised her SMG, armor reinforcing with a clang, "Ready Shepard. Firing solution acquired."

Raising his own rifle, he took aim at the combat engineer and gave the order, "All teams, hit hard and fast. Permission to engage is granted. Kill with extreme prejudice."

And the courtyard was awash with combat.

Garrus' sniper rifle was the first to bark across the field, the round splitting through the centurion's visorless helmet and spraying viscera and black blood all over the door behind him, body thumping to the ground. True to their cybernetic enhancement, Cerberus reacted swiftly to the attack, immediately turning towards the source.

Then Keeling and Liara rounded the corner, SMG and heavy rifle laying down fire upon the eight vulnerable assault troopers in the middle of the yard, immediately dropping three and forcing the rest into cover. Marcus' mattock coughed twice, and took down the shields of the combat engineer as he drew his Hornet SMG, before sending another round slamming into his gut, and the final one straight through his skull, ending the threat he posed. Revenant fire could be heard, and one of the bogies turned to the source, while the other mercilessly approached Keeling and Liara.

Kasumi appeared behind cover and they heard a trooper cry out, before his body then appeared, body slumping forward against a crate. Reappearing, Kasumi ripped her knife out from the back of his skull, and quickly disappeared again. Garrus' rifle barked again, ending the life of another trooper.

"Fall back! Get to cover!" one assault trooper barked, his synthetic voice never ceasing to irritiate Marcus. One trooper tossed a frag grenade at them, but Marcus merely rolled to the side, and EDI rushed forward with unbelievable speed and agility, reaching the trooper and ramming her SMG into his skull with blunt force, causing him to fall forwards before she slammed her foot into the back of his skull, killing him.

"_Dios mio_!" James exclaimed, and Marcus turned to his position upon the sound of it, "I'm falling back! These bastards are bloody biotics!"

True to his word, Marcus watched as James steadily retreated, the Cerberus soldier moving forward with what looked to be biotic whips, biotic energy encased in bendable energy that could be used to whip, grab or flay the enemy. And James was currently fleeing from one as it continued its relentless assault of dark energy, and the other one moved towards him. And the way it was attacking James and then relocating, it reminded Marcus of something.

_A Dragoon._

Letting his own biotics pulse over him, Marcus raised his rifle and moved to meet the enemy dragoon charging him, watching as Keeling signalled Liara to go deal with the second one pursuing James.

His mattock roared in his hands, shot after shot meeting the kinetic barriers of the charging dragoon, the shock trooper in question dragging his tendrils of dark energy behind him as he prepared to unleash his full might upon the spectre steadily emptying into him. Just as the kinetic barriers of the soldier seemed to drop, Marcus' mattock spat out the empty clip and screeched its discontent at his repeated pulling of the trigger. He quickly holstered the weapon and with speed noone could match, slid forward as the dragoon lashed forwards with his whips, missing by hairs breadth as Marcus closed the distance, quickly standing up and then slamming his helmet into the dragoon's, stunning him.

Clenching his fist, he drew all his biotic might into the punch as he hooked the trooper across the face, visor shattering from the impact as his head shot right and was thrown backwards from the force. Marcus moved to continue the attack, but small shockwave sent him staggering away, giving the dragoon time to stand back up and continue its assault. Dumb as hell however, it attempted to repeat its whip attack, which ended badly for it when Marcus simply picked him up biotically, and then slammed him back down onto the ground, head first. A loud crack was heard, the dragoon's head snapped at an impossible angle, and the entire shock trooper's body went limp, collapsing to the ground with a thud.

Taking a heavy breath, he drew his mattock again and moved to assist the others in taking care of the second dragoon, when he heard a loud synthetic roar, and turned to the source, watching as said soldier came flying through the air to land in the midst of crates nearby, scattering them as he hit the ground with enough force to break one's spine. To answer his question of who did it, Liara appeared, using her biotics to launch herself up and through the air, and then glide to land next to the befallen dragoon much like Samara had done when he first met the asari. But this gliding wasn't graceful; it was fast and full of anger, and even now the asari's features were creased in anger as she landed next to the groaning dragoon, who tried to fight her off with a weak biotic push, one she prompty ignored and then picked him up with her biotics, hovering him just infront of her.

With a barely audible grunt, she shifted back and then slammed the dragoon's face into the concrete three times before letting go, letting its body collapse in the growing pool of black blood that was now growing, body limp. Taking deep breaths, she looked up and met Marcus' gaze, features becoming calmer once she saw his expression. The Liara three years ago would have seen such an act barbaric and terrifying; it would have left her in tears...but the modern Liara had just committed that barbaric and terrifying act.

_She's changed, alot. She's grown up. She's no longer that shy archaelogist; she's the Shadow Broker, and she knows your every secret, and combat has shaped her into a killing machine._

He nodded to her, and turned to the rest of the group, who was mopping up the final thralls of the Cerberus resistance. When the last assault trooper fell, the squads regrouped and reloaded. Sighing, he shook his head as he spoke, "Those biotic shock troopers...the Dragoons...we have to keep an eye out for them. We almost got ourselves killed because we didn't know they were biotic."

"Their presence also proves that Cerberus has no end of surprises," Liara noted, shaking her head as she took in one final breath, "There may be more variants we don't know about. For example, I don't think we've encountered any snipers yet."

"You hear that, Garrus?" Kasumi quipped, "You'll have cybernetically-enhanced competition."

"I'll be sure to send them an invitation," the turian replied dryly, "Maybe they'll be kind enough to buy me some dextro beer before they die."

"Stay frosty people. Cerberus will have heard the gunfire and will definitely be sending reinforcements. Let's just hope they mistake us for the resistance. That mistake might just give us an edge; they'll send less troops to deal with that," Marcus observed.

"Or none at all, given they had a full squad here, plus the two dragoons," Kasumi added, "Maybe they'll just assume the squad will take care of it, and their radio silence just means they don't need assistance."

"An excellent point," EDI complimented, "Considering the intelligence of the average assault trooper here, they are no smarter than the original commandos Cerberus had before their militarization. There is a 15 percent chance of reinforcements being sent."

"I'm liking those odds so far," James said, rubbing his neck as he loaded a fresh clip into his LMG, "Better than having to deal with more of those dragoon bastards and their biotics."

"Let's get moving," Marcus ordered, "Incase we're wrong."

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_1604 hours._

_Excavation Area, ExoGeni Research Dig, Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

"You ever find any dinosaurs when you were digging around, Bluey?" James asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had enveloped as they crossed through the shadows of the bunkers, coming close to the dig site. Cerberus resistance, just as Kasumi and EDI had surmized, Cerberus had assumed a resistance hit-and-run, and did not think to send reinforcements; that, or they deemed protection of the dig site more important. As they moved, Utopia burned brightly in the sky, its radiance painting yellow all over Eden Prime's surface, and making it look as beautiful as ever. Eden Prime was a beautiful colony; they had recovered from the geth attack, they would recover from this.

Liara, sighing at Vega's seemingly stupid question, "No, dinosaurs and other fossils would be paleontology. I'm..._was_...an archaelogist. I studied artefacts left by sapient species, specifically the protheans," she explained, rolling her eyes, and then turned to meet James' eyes, "The two fields are completely different, and-" she cut herself off, noticing the marine's smirk. Sighing again, she turned away, "-you were joking."

"Seems the jarhead does know somethings," Marcus commented, smiling at Liara's embarassment and flushing cheeks, "And he just managed to trick the Shadow Broker, of all people."

"See, I'm bright," James added, chuckling.

"When you want to be," Keeling remarked, "Give you a shuttle, and everything becomes FUBAR, especially if you put an escaping shuttle in the mix."

"Oh give me a break, will ya!" James mockingly snapped, "I've got enough of that shit from Cortez already!"

"And we'll continue to give you shit for it for as long as it provides us comedic relief. Buckle in James, its going to be a while before that dies off," Marcus replied, turning around, grin still present _until _they rounded the corner. Then it dropped right off his face and his military training kicked in, snapping into a crouch and raising a fist, signalling his squad to follow his movement. Keeling noticed immediately and dropped, followed by James, and then Kasumi and Liara. EDI took a second to analyze his gesture, file it away in her memory core, and then mimicked the rest of the team, rather awkwardly, as seemed to be her style at the moment. _She's new to the battlefield of ground warfare. She'll get used to it; she's an AI. She does it faster than organics do._

He made a 'danger imminent' hand signal in front of him, and Keeling dropped prone and began to crawl forwards to get a better position. To see what Garrus saw from his angle, he quickly contacted the turian over the comms, whispering so they didn't draw attention, "Garrus, what do you see?"

"Alot of movement, that's for sure. Looks like Cerberus brought the whole damn party to that dig site," the turian noted, whistling in the odd turian fashion, "From what I can see, they've got at least a platoon of assault troopers, and three centurions leading them. I see four more of those dragoons, and what looks to be six combat engineers standing watch over...well, spirits to be damned, now we know what those packs on their backs are. Portable turrets. They've got six covering every possible entry way. They must have done it in response to our little attack. I see something large and white at the actual dig site, but its hidden by a bunker. I can't get a good look."

"Solid copy. Fill us in on their movements, and do not fire until I give the go. If you absolutely have to, aim for the centurions. Cut their command off at the head."

Not waiting for a response, he turned back to Keeling, who was now comfortably positioned next to a mispositioned crate, eyes down the sights of her valkyrie, "How about it, Keeling? What do you have?"

"Well, we've got a full squad of guardians. Finally thing is, they seem to be using a testudo tactic," she observed.

"Testudo?" Liara asked, confused.

"Its an old tactic that was used over a thousand years ago by a human military power at the time called the Roman Empire," Marcus explained, "Turians remind me alot of them, especially in the way of names and their military structure; Romans were very militaristic, and while they did copy off the Greeks alot, they were brilliant in their own way. Cutting to the point, they have a formation called a testudo, or tortoise. Its basically where they all heap together and heap all their shields together to create this single, impenetrable barrier to protect themselves from arrows; it allowed them to move quickly, keep themselves protected from enemy fire, and to close the distance. Given that guardians have the conventional shields like Romans, and not the kinetic shields we have, it makes sense. And it would be super effective. The fact they're in it now suggests they know we're coming."

"But they don't necessarily know who we are," Kasumi added, "Remember Shep, they might think we're resistance. What they know is that their is a slit in their shields that they need to see through, and, expecting just rebels, will think their aim too crappy to worry about. Unfortunately for them, we've got a team of crack shots and a thief who knows stealth. That testudo won't be a threat."

"What she said," Marcus stated, grinning as he turned back, "Anything else, Keeling?"

"Yeah," she stated simply, "They have a bloody Atlas guarding the site. I think that's what Vakarian was referring to."

"An Atlas mech?" Marcus asked, surprised. _Cerberus really has come a long way if they got their hands on an Atlas mech; those damn things are expensive and military grade. Last time I encountered one was on Korlus, when Jedore had that Blue Suns custom painted one; back when I was recruiting Grunt a year ago. Luckily for us back then, Jedore was nothing but an incompetent merc, and all I had to do was close the distance. But that mech is controlled by a trained soldier loaded with cybernetics to increase reaction time; and closing the distance with close to a company of Cerberus troops surrounding it is going to be very difficult. We're going to have take it out long range._

"I brought a Cobra missile launcher," James told them, unholstering a bulky looking stream-line white ordnance launcher that looked alot like the asari Disciple shotgun in design, "It only has two rockets, but it should be enough to take care of it."

"We'll clear a path, give you time to line up a shot; but we're going to have to split up again. We can't make this a frontal assault. We need a pincer movement; to trap them. Garrus will provide sniper support like before, and Keeling will take James along with EDI this time, to flank around the back and hit them hard from the rear, while Liara and Kasumi take the frontal assault. Everyone clear?" Seeing their nods, he gave a brief nod himself, "Then let's do this. Take that dig site people; do not let Cerberus keep it."

With a final nod, Keeling got up, and James and EDI followed behind her, disappearing behind a bunker nearby, while Marcus equipped his mattock, checked the scope, and then turned to Kasumi and Liara, "Precision shots. We'll be dealing with the guardians you two, so I want you to make sure you make your shots count. Kasumi, testudo relies on the shields to be amassed up front; they'll be completely uncovered at the back; think you can sneak around and cause some mayhem?"

"That's like asking a soldier 'can you shoot?'" the thief remarked, smirking as she suddenly disappeared into thin air, the only thing giving away her location being the distortion of the air around her form, "You guys take them from the front, I'll make them quiver."

Nodding, he motioned to Liara and they wheeled forward, keying his comm, "All units, push forward. You have permission to engage. Same as before; take no prisoners!"

This time it was the sound of Team Two opening fire that opened the engagement, the sound of synthesized cries of surprise being heard as a combination of Locust SMG, Valkyrie heavy rifle and Revenant LMG fire rained down upon the surprised Cerberus troops. Even as Marcus watched down the sight of his scope, he could see the stationary Atlas mech, covered in the gold and white colors of Cerberus, and its golden hexagon painted on its shoulder, assault trooper operator in the cockpit, turning towards Keeling's team, slowly bringing one large foot after the other. The Atlas was a bulky vehicle, and its two massive legs made the ground shake with every footfall. It had a large glass cockpit, meaning the pilot could easily be sniped once you broke the not so thick glass (last time it took just under eight SMG bursts to break it, and that was point blank) and it was very slow and cumbersome when it came to movement, speed and turning. But, like the YMIR mech, its armament more than made up for it; it packed heavy armour that was essentially bullet proof can could alot of punishment, and possessed a heavy machine gun on one arm, and a gas-operated heavy cannon on the other; able to semi-automatically fire 30mm high velocity explosive ordnance shells with rapid succession. And, as Marcus took notice, Cerberus had added its own modification; a rocket launcher located just under the heavy cannon, which undoubtably would be able to deliver a payload of rockets every once and a while to deal with armoured vehicles. But, he digressed. Seeing the Atlas turn, he also watched as the turrets guarding that side opened up, tearing into the cover that Team Two was using, but quickly changed targets when they saw what they thought to be EDI charging blindly at them; high velocity armor-piercing rounds tearing into it before it then crackled and died.

Spinning the corner, Marcus took aim at the lead slit in the guardian testudo, and fired. He heard and practically felt the round hit dead center, the shield leaning backwards as the guardian wielding it fell backwards into one of his comrades, opening a gap in the formation, but his comrade quickly filled the gap, bringing his shield down to cover it. However, it was clear Kasumi had made her move as some commotion could be heard, and the formation seemed to halt in its advance. Not long after, Kasumi reappeared next to him smiling, "I took down two of them; that should confuse them alittle."

"And this should annoy them," Liara added, bringing her biotics to bear and reaching a hand out, a biotic tendril latching on to one of the shields and then ripping it away, the guardian unable to hold on and simply letting go, leaving him completely vulnerable, with just his Talon heavy pistol to protect him, and he quickly opened fire, but didn't last long before Kasumi poured fire into him and ended his life. Following Liara's example, Marcus wielded his biotics and both of them began methodically tearing the testudo apart as they ripped away shields and killed their wielders. By the time the formation finally fell apart, most of the guardians were dead, and the rest falling back, only to be killed by precision kills from Team One. The guardian squad dealt with, his team pushed forward, reloading their weapons as they saw two dragoons disengaging from the rear front and moving to engage the new threat.

To Marcus' surprise, Garrus' supporting fire was completely absent from the battle, and he began to get worried. Something was wrong. He holstered his rifle and activated his omni-blade, simultaneously grabbing the nearest dragoon and dragging him towards him, using the dragoon's momentum to impale him on an awaiting omni-blade. With the dragoon dead, he tossed his dead body away in time to see the soldier dealt with in equal measure, and the three found themselves confronted by one of the six portable turrets the combat engineers had deployed, and quickly fell into cover as it tore into them.

"We've got three more hostiles, right flank!" a centurion called out, "Charlie squad, move and back up the right flank. Yuri, you know what to do! Concentrate fire on them while we deal with the left!"

_He said Yuri. As in a singular name. As in...oh shit! _He turned to Liara and Kasumi, "Switch cover! Over to me!"

They rolled towards him just the sound of a rocket could be heard, smoke trailing behind it as it slammed into the crates they had been using as cover, blasting them apart and sending debris flying everywhere, most of which pinged off their armor. The destruction revealed the Atlas, standing infront of the dig site, its left arm pointed at them and now retreating, having released its payload. It then switched to its right arm, bullets racing up to feet the ground as it fired at them, forcing them further into cover as the rounds chewed up crates and the like. Still not seeing any sniper rounds flying through the air, he commed Garrus, anger filling his voice, "Vakarian, where the fuck are you! We've got an Atlas on our ass, and no sniper support! Give me a fucking sitrep!"

"Sorry Marcus, but I'm sorta trying to play tango with a few Cerberus snipers. Thank you for jinxing me Kasumi," the turian deadpanned, sounding hurried and tired, "I think I'm going to call these bastards my 'Nemesis',' because they sure are fast as hell. They also seem to be the first females I've seen in their military; all of them are female, and seem to be carrying Widow sniper rifles; you can probably see why I don't want to get hit. You saw what Legion could do with those mean rifles."

"Snipers? Well that's just brilliant," he deadpanned, "How long until you think you can be ready to support us?"

"I've taken down three of them, just a matter of finding this last one, and I should be free," Garrus joked, the sound of a rifle firing, followed by the unmistakenable sound of a Widow answering back, followed by turian cursing, "Damn it; I missed. I'll get back to you."

"Copy that," Marcus replied, turning back to his team, "Garrus is out; says to tell you Kasumi that you jinxed him and he's now got a few Cerberus snipers to play hide-and-seek with, so he's going to be busy. We're going to have to take care of them ourselves."

"Well this is going to be fun," Liara snarkily commented, "Especially in terms of that Atlas. Only James has the ordnance to deal with it."

"Not true," Marcus grinned, eying the mech, "Liara, give me the best biotic barrier you have," he ordered, and then proceeded to detach his entire bandolier of frag grenades from his chest, counting at least fifteen in each socket. _Good, more than enough. I hope._

"Just what are you planning to do?" The asari asked skeptically, narrowing her eyes at him.

"The usual. Just about to run an extremely crazy tactic that will ultimately be successful," Marcus replied, before turning the corner once more, only to be forced back behind it by a raking of fire from the approaching Atlas, which had apparently decided to leave its stationary position and steadily approach them, ground shaking with every step.

"Sometimes I wonder if you possess any sense of sanity," Liara questioned, shaking her head with a weak smile, "Fine, just be careful."

"I always am. Liara, give the barrier now," he ordered, and just as she formed the dark energy sphere around him, he charged at full sprint directly at the Atlas, and was surprised at just how quickly it has closed the distance; it was literally one meter infront of him when he began his sprint. Seeing him coming, it slowly made to raise its leg to crush him, but he slid under its body, coming out behind it. He turned back towards it, and managed to avoid the automated sentry turret nearby to leap onto the mech's back as it moved to turn around, finding a one-handed grip on the fuel tank on its back, allowing him to climb up and onto its 'head.' He could hear the soldier cursing as he tried to swat Marcus off, but the joints wouldn't rotate that far, and clearly weren't designed to do so. Grinning, he grabbed the grenade belt, and found a steel handle for builders to hold on to, tying the grenade bandolier around it. The Atlas, having given up trying to remove him, decided to take out as much of his squad as possible before expiring, and headed for Liara and Kasumi's position. He shouted at them to run, and he primed one of the grenades before leaping off, rolling behind a nearby crate just as the explosive detonated.

Heat flushed over him, and he turned in time to meet the brilliant flash of all fifteen grenades detonating in succession, the explosion managing to completely detach the arm wielding the heavy cannon, but not destroying the Atlas. Luckily for him, he knew this; he had positioned it on that arm on purpose, and he watched as the arm also erupted into flames, all the rockets and heavy ammo inside it also detonating, the wave of heat and destruction overcoming the Atlas, and sending it toppling onto the ground, where it crushed the crates underneath its monolithic weight, the debris shattering the cockpit and eviscerating the driver, slicing him to bloody ribbons. With the Atlas utterly destroyed, Cerberus had lost its main advantage over them, and his team managed to recover enough to begin pushing back.

Kasumi easily dealt with the two sentry turrets on the right flank, so it was a simple matter of hacking the other four. Kasumi, annoyed that she had to compete for control with the combat engineers, was immensely relieved when Marcus focused his fire on said engineers, gunning them down with little effort and allowing Kasumi to seemlessly gain control of the turrets and turn them on their original masters, their automated targetting systems pinpointing the Cerberus IFFs in their armor and opening fire. By the time the battle was over, every centurion and assault trooper left had been torn asunder by their own turrets, and with that done, Kasumi prompted them to self-destruct, and they all simply combusted into flames and debris. The team linked up, regrouped and reloaded, and examined the scene before them. It was carnage; the wreckage of the destroyed Atlas lay behind them, and corpses lay all over the field. Keeling, feeling the need to lift the tension, gave a cough, followed by a light chuckle.

"Well...they definitely know we're here now."

A few moments later, Garrus caught up to them, rifle in his hand and breathing tightly. Once he reached them, he nodded to them, sighing, "Well, thank the spirits you took care of these guys. Those snipers were a piece of work."

"Finally met your match?" Marcus quipped.

"Bastards were damn accurate, it was almost robotic. But they missed; every shot," Garrus added, grinning, "Mostly because I'm just too good for them. I was faster, and when I hit, I hit. But I'll admit, those snipers are pretty damn accurate; better watch for them in the future, especially since they all seem to use Widows. Get hit by one of those, and you're pretty much dead. Shields just don't matter."

"We'll take that into consideration. Good job," they all turned to the dig site, and Marcus sighed, turning to Keeling and James, "You two, stay here and keep watch. You so much as hear a whisper or a shuffle and I want to hear about it. The rest of you, with me. Liara, you take point. You know more about this than anyone. Stay sharp, people."

They moved up ahead, and came to stand upon an elevated platform looking down into the massive hole ExoGeni had been digging. As they looked down, they found the hole to be kilometers deep; they couldn't even see the bottom. Kasumi whistled loudly, kicking an abandoned omni-tool emitter down into the hole, and they all watched it fall; they never heard it land.

"That hole must be miles in depth," Marcus noted, looking at Liara, who had run a scan of what seemed to be the controls to a massive drill, to which the platform was the caretaker for, "What do you have? Do you know the depth?"

"5 kilometers deep," Liara ascertained, and Marcus watched as Kasumi sat on the edge of the platform, dangling her feet over the edge and continuing to whistle, while ignoring Garrus' snarky comments about 'accidentally falling off.' She simply poked her tongue out at him and continued to do as she liked. EDI stood at attention, simply awaiting new orders. He noted this all in the time it took for Liara to continue, "And its finished. According to these readings, we're two minutes too late. Cerberus finished the excavation, and reached the...prothean facility beneath."

"Damn it," Marcus cursed, but before he could continue, Liara spoke up, disspelling any negativity he might have felt at the revelation.

"However, from what I can gather from this data, it seems Cerberus deployed a science team into the facility to find any relevant technology they could use, only to find something that completely surprised them. Something none of them could have expected and...would make history," she frowned, and continued to look through the data. He watched her features change with every passing word, and then she seemed to freeze, eyes widened in pure shock. He had seen that face before; it was the face he had seen when she saw Feron caged up in the ex-Shadow Broker's Base a year ago, before breaking down into tears. But she didn't get tearful, she merely began frantically typing into the terminal, inputting multiple commands as she muttered to herself, and he managed to make out the same repeated sentences over and over again, "Not possible. Its simply not possible. It can't be. Fifty thousand years..."

"What is it Liara, talk to me?" Marcus asked, confused by her rapid fire denials. _What's got her so worked up?_

She seemed to ignore his question, turning towards him after inputting her final command, and he felt the wire beneath them shudder, but it began to move; something below was ascending. She turned back towards him, shock and denial still in her eyes, and it was worse than before, "I'm bringing up whatever's done there. We need to check to make sure the data's correct, but luckily for us, Cerberus was unable to extract it before we arrived and obviously are waiting for heavier equipment to extract-"

He grabbed both her shoulders, shaking her as he looked into her eyes, "Damn it Liara, what did they find!?"

She simply looked at him, and they heard a beep on the terminal, one Liara quickly turned to assess, but not before stating very simply, "Something that shouldn't even exist in our time period."

Marcus knew she wouldn't say anything else, and simply waited until she had brought up whatever was done there. A door in the middle of the platform slid away and the source of Liara's confusion and shock was presented before them; a pod, gleaming blue and grey, sealed up and the glass completely opaque. Everyone looked at it in confusion, and the pod's sudden appearence even peaked Kasumi's interest, who quickly got up and approached them. Even EDI seemed curious, looking down at it, and beginning her own omni-tool scans of the pod in sync with Liara's.

Liara seemed to reach the same conclusion as she had before, and seemed to take a step back, as if in awe, "So its true...that pod really does contain...oh by the goddess...after fifty thousand years..."

"Liara, you're going to tell us right now what is in that pod," Marcus growled, sick to the death of the secrecy and cryptic shit his asari friend was pulling, "Because if you brought up some ancient prothean time bomb for us to gawk at, I will personally pick it up and throw it at the nearest Cerberus asshole I can find." His voice was full of warning; he either got an answer or not.

She turned towards him, a half smile crossing her face, "I...Shepard, we've just made the greatest discovery in fifty thousand years. The pod...it contains..."

Finally composing herself, she forced the words from her mouth in rapidfire, but they all comprehended them well enough, "Shepard, the pod contains a prothean! A real, unmodified, unhuskified, _living _prothean!"

To say Liara's shock and awe had now spread like a contagion would be an understatement; Kasumi simply squealed in excitement, Garrus and Marcus went slack-jawed, EDI remained completely unamazed, and Keeling and James...well, they weren't even present.

"But...how?" was the first question out of Marcus' mouth, "A living prothean has been sitting under Eden Prime for fifty thousand years? Are you sure its not just a skeleton, or a ghost?"

"Shepard, my omni-tool detected his brain activity. Its still active at a subconscious level, which means he's dreaming. And yes, I confirmed its a male; protheans don't appear to be monogendered. Dreaming can only mean he's alive. How he's alive after fifty thousand years, you ask?" she walked over to the pod, a blue hand gliding over its glass surface, "Remember those stasis pods you talked about finding in the Archives on Ilos? The ones that were supposed to sustain them?"

"Cryo-pods. They put the protheans in cryo-sleep, and it was supposed to preserve them for fifty thousand years until they could awaken," Marcus recapped, confirming her assumption, "That's what was meant to happen, until Vigil started cutting power, and they all died."

"Exactly. But the prothean facility below _still has _power," she braced against the pod, overwhelmed by the potential of such a find, and he couldn't blame her. It seemed the archaelogist who was fascinated by protheans was finally coming out in their asari friend once more, "Which means his stasis was preserved, and he's still alive! I'm just glad we got here; such a find shouldn't fall into Cerberus hands."

_And he's a living prothean! _"That also means he could help with building this superweapon; he might know where the Catalyst is! Shit, he might even be able to provide us with prothean battle tactics to which to base ours off of and improve on," he turned to the pod with a sudden determination in his features, "Liara, we need to crack this pod open now. We need him awake and up to date."

Before he could think further on that, her eyes snapped up to his and shook her head, "No! The stasis is still in operation; if you forced open the pod now, the exposure would kill him!"

"We need him out of the damn pod, Liara. We need to know what he knows," Marcus growled, pointing at the pod, "So unless you know how to open the pod, we at a crossroads right now. We need this asset extracted and safe from Cerberus hands. The last thing we need is what could possibly be the last prothean alive being indoctrinated by a bunch of terrorist fuckwits lead by an insane leader."

"I have been working on locating a source for the stasis' power since you brought the pod to bear," EDI explained, and all of them turned towards her instantly, "Cerberus' science team knows that to unlock the stasis, you must have an understanding of the prothean language and mathematics. Since they lacked this, they looked for alternatives, and found two nodes which they hope would be emergency overrides for the stasis mode. They have them stored in two bunkers across from here, deep in the heart of the colony, where most of the Cerberus forces here seem to be based. They are currently attempting to hold off a renowned offensive by Eden Prime resistance members."

"If those nodes are the only way to unlock this pod, then we'd better get moving," he extended his rifle, nodding to Liara, "You stay here, and watch the pod. If Cerberus reinforcements arrive, you'll have Keeling and James watching your back. Garrus, Kasumi, EDI; you three are with me. We're going to find those nodes and override this damn stasis if its the last thing we do. We'll assist the resistance anyway we can, but I must make unlocking this pod a priority. Okay, let's double time it people."

"We're literally minutes away from making the greatest breakthrough in history. This one's for the books. So let's look like big fucking heroes while doing it."

**{Loading...}**

_June 5, 2186_

_1626 hours._

_Recreation Center, Main Colony, Colony New Hope, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI._

The grenade was primed, and he quickly tossed it over his cover, relocating to another position as he did so. He heard the explosion, followed by the sound of shouting as he slid into cover next to EDI, mattock held firmly within his grasp. He peaked over his cover, risking a look at the location where his grenade had landed; now littered with lifeless corpses, either shredded by the shrapnel or the explosion. Fire pinged off his cover and he quickly ducked back behind the crate, turning back to his AI companion, "EDI, give me a ratio of how many we're facing."

"We are engaged in combat with a company of troops, captain, from what I can see visually," EDI observed, quickly popping out of cover to exchange fire with the enemy before ducking back down, "At most, we are facing eighty-two men in total; two more than a full company. Alliance companies consist of 150 men, but Cerberus companies consist of maximum 80. We're facing a full force here. It is likely that this company will only be a portion of the full battalion Cerberus will have defending this particular colonial site. Alliance battalions are 800 men, while Cerberus battalions are 300 men."

"A full battalion? If its only three hundred men, then we've put quite a sizable dent in them already. And we're facing eighty-two of them right now," Marcus grunted, hearing the lovable sound of a sniper rifle firing again, taking with it, hopefully, another Cerberus life. They were currently locked in a struggle with the Cerberus company, one EDI had indentified as the Cerberus 24th Company of the 2nd Battalion of the Fourth Army Group, of which Cerberus had four all up. One army group split into four field armies. A field army was made up of four corps'. A corp was made up of two divisions. A division was made of five regiments. A regiment was made of seven battalions. A battalion was made of four companies. A company was made of six platoons. A platoon was made of two squads. A squad was made of four fireteams. And, of course, a fireteam consisted of three men. So that was _alot _of men; the Alliance still outnumbered them, but Cerberus still had a sizable force to compete with, and that wasn't even counting their navy.

The company before them packed so much firepower, that he had been eventually forced to call Liara, Keeling and James into the fray for backup; Liara leaving the pod hidden in a bunker concealed by crates. It wouldn't hide it forever, but it would long enough for them to find the nodes and override the stasis.

This company had almost everything packed with them; all they lacked was an Atlas, something Marcus was thankful they wouldn't have to fight again. Instead they seemed to have entire squads of assault troopers, with a centurion leading both squads, all six platoons, and one for the company; all up, that was nine centurions. The snipers Garrus had referred to, the ones they were now calling Nemesis', had taken up position at the first node bunker, enjoying the advantage of a wide open padio, which his team had to cross to reach the bunker, and the Nemesis' could just drop them from long range. Guardians held the flanks, securing every single doorway in each portable home, making flanking impossible. Every platoon seemed to have its own dragoon, and they were constantly being hammered by biotic attacks. Combat engineers had set up sentry turrets along the battlefield, riddling their positions with fire while they sat behind them, keeping their shields steady and making sure they weren't hacked, especially by Kasumi. They had learnt unbelievably fast, and Cerberus now had the upperhand over them, something they were enjoying very much.

Another sniper round, and the loud, familiar sound of lead hitting flesh could be heard, and it was answered by the equally terrifying Widow, followed by a turian curse, "Damn Nemesis' know where I am now; relocating."

He heard the sound of something rolling along the ground, and turning, he saw it was a smoke grenade; only centurions used those, and used them as a screening for a mass infantry assault. He grabbed EDI's arm and pulled her inside the portable home, before going prone and sighting down his scope, waiting for the enemy to charge forward.

And they did; an entire squad in fact. They assaulted their previous position, but Marcus was ready, and aimed straight for the centurion, his weapon barking as he thumbed the trigger repeatedly. Shields were chewed up, and soon the centurion found himself dead on the ground, riddled with bullets. But the squad learned quickly, and all 12 assault troopers seemed to switch rotation, turning fully to face him and all opened fire with their assortment of avenger and vindicator rifles. His shields quickly depleted, and he rolled out of the way, cursing as a stray round lodged itself deep into his barrel, ruining the weapon. Cursing his bad luck, he dumped the heavy rifle and unholstered his Hurricane SMG, aiming directly at the doorway as EDI deployed her hologram, and then both made their escape as Cerberus flooded through.

"Our position has been compromised!" Marcus shouted into his comms, "We need suppressive fire on the right flank; coming through! We have an entire squad! Repeat, 12 plus hostiles, all standard troopers."

"Copy that, ready to light 'em up," James affirmed, and Marcus rolled through the doorway as a shot clipped his side, growling at the pain that suddenly shot up his back. EDI suffered a shot to her own back, but due to her reinforced armor, it made no difference and she quickly helped her captain up, retreating to a safe position just as James arrived, Revenant raised and trigger pulled, a stream of heavy incendiary rounds pounding through the hallway.

"Its like playing _ponyata!_" James exclaimed as they watched numerous bodies drop from the stream of fire, the Cerberus squad beginning to retreat. They continued to fire at James, but when it became clear their efforts would be moot, they began to fall back, leaving them at half strength. Not that it mattered; they had a full company left to reinforce them, and his team were gaining no ground.

Reloading, James turned back to Marcus, who finished applying medi-gel to his gunshot wound, "You okay, loco?"

Looking up from his finished work, he nodded, gritting his teeth through the pain, as N7 had drilled into him back at boot camp. He remembered his drill sergeant's words clean as day. _If you can't even take a fuckin bullet, how the fuck do you expect to kill anything? Man the fuck up, slap some bloody gel on it, and get back in the fucking fight. A pussy who lies down groaning in agony isn't an N7, and he definitely ain't a soldier; we expect the best of the best from you. You want the turians to laugh at us? You want the asari to mock us? Do you want the salarians to think you weaklings? Show them what the fuck humans are made up of; show them we don't give a fuck about their slimy opinions, and that we shall show them how much we love our beloved Corps. You were marines yesterday, but today you are an N7. You are the best of the best, and I shall make sure you live up to status. Drop your purses and welcome to hell. _N7 Drill had been hell, and Marcus had survived it, and even now, he just grinned as he met James' eyes, despite the desperate situation.

"If I can't take a bullet Vega, I don't know I managed to kill so many Collectors, Geth, Reapers and Cerberus. Maybe I really do owe it all to Garrus," he joked, "Its just a flesh wound; I'll walk it off. But it could get worse if Cerberus keeps us pinned like this. We need a game changer, and we need it now."

"I'm all ears loco," James replied, shrugging as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, "But I ain't seeing anything that could possibly bring us out of this unbloodied. Cerberus has all their flanks secured, and the path directly ahead is a killing field; snipers and turrets and everything. We'd be totally fucked if we tried a frontal."

"You're not telling me anything I don't already know," the spectre replied, "I need options, not bloody recounts," he growled his last sentence, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. In a lighter voice, he turned to EDI and sighed, comming Keeling, "Lieutenant, you better have some good news for me, because its all bad on this end."

"Share the festivities," she dryly exchanged, the sound of gunfire almost overpowering her voice, "We're being hammered from all sides, and these bloody dragoons are really starting to piss me off. Its like wack-a-hole; go to take a peek at the enemy, and the next thing you're doing is dodging biotic whips just to make sure they don't behead you. Liara's holding them off, but that won't last. I need them gone; or this pressure's just going to cave us."

"We'll see what we can do on this end. Shepard out," cutting the line, he slammed his fist against the crate, cursing, "Damn it! If Tali were here, she'd have those turrets tearing them a new one by now. Grunt would be beating those guardians to death with their own shields, and Wrex would be smashing those Nemesis' skulls in. And Jack? That biotic powerhouse would have cleaned these bastards up all by herself. What about Legion? I'd like to see those Nemesis' play 'whose the best sniper' with him. Nothing beats geth precision."

"The old squad was the best we had. A bloody rolling death machine. Our own personal blitzkrieg," he sighed heavily, shaking his head, "This squad isn't nearly the same. No offense James, but I don't even know you or Keeling fully. EDI having a body is a new thing for me, and I haven't had Liara properly under my command for three years. That leaves just Garrus and Kasumi, and that isn't a cohesive fighting force."

"Not much can be done about that," James stated, oblivious that he was stating the obvious.

"No fucking shit!" Marcus snapped back, "And the problem is that while I'm sitting here, gloating about a superior team that isn't even a team anymore, Keeling, Liara and Kasumi are getting absolutely decimated! I need a plan, now! Something that involves a bloody miracle, because I can think of nothing for it but a frontal attack towards Keeling's position. We need to force them back so we can regroup and coordinate. 'United We Stand, Divided We Fall.'"

"I may have just found your miracle Marcus," Garrus called out over the comm, "By the spirits...and well timed too. Its like they heard the word 'miracles,' looked at their script, and realized it was their moment to shine."

"I don't need witty remarks, Garrus," Marcus growled, "Just give it to me plain."

"Seems the Eden Prime resistance has regrouped and is launching a counterattack. I was going to snipe those two Nemesis' over by the bunker, but they just came out of nowhere, at least platoon sized, and just attacked them out of nowhere. They're both dead now, and Cerberus is going to have to split their attention to deal with the rear flanking movement. And if we're lucky-" a moment passed, followed by a chuckle of victory, "Marcus, I recommend you hit the left flank with everything you have because you've got a limited opening. They've repositioned their guardians to deal with the threat and have left their flank totally exposed. You need to push forward now before they close it again."

"Copy that!" Marcus growled back, leaping up and practically sprinting towards the bunker that had originally been occupied by three guardians before, "Move people! We need to get through that door NOW!"

They practically rushed through, and before the guardian could realize what was happening, Marcus slammed his omni-blade in the space of his back, twisting the blade before ripping it out, lifting up the shield with one hand and approaching the other two guardians, deflecting their shots. This allowed time for James to arrive and he simply charged up, ramming his LMG into the slits of their shields and going full auto, likely reducing their heads to unrecognizable mush. With the trio dead, Marcus dropped the commandeered shield, activated his omni-shield, and charged forward, hitting the Cerberus left flank.

It was bloody chaos; Garrus, coordinating with Keeling, managed to loosen their pressure on their position, allowing them a fighting retreat. The retreat soon became a flanking however when Cerberus realized their left was disintegrated, and sent their guardians to plug the gap, obliviously making the same mistake before, and allowing Keeling, Liara and Kasumi to swing around the right and cripple their flank. With Garrus sniping them, team two hitting the right, team one hitting the left, and the colonists crushing the rear, the company was trapped and had nowhere to go. Victory was certain upon the left collapsing.

Marcus kicked the last assault trooper off of his omni-blade, blood sizzling and popping on the orange energy of the blade, and dripping to the ground in boiled drops. Deactivating it, he turned to survey the battlefield. What had been a certain Cerberus victory had quickly turned into a complete rout, and eventually total decimation of the company; Cerberus did not surrender, and fought to the last man, the mindless creatures they had been engineered into. The dragoons took some trouble to take down, but they eventually, and the rest of the company fell with it. As it stood now, the entire area was just littered with corpses, black blood and red running through the grass, as some colonists had fallen in the counterattack as well. It was a bloodbath.

_It is good that war is so terrible, lest we grow fond of it. _Could have used a man like General Lee right now; he'd know what to do. Although he'd probably wonder what a Mako was. Or what all these aliens were. Marcus laughed inwardly at that, and then regrouped with his squad, approaching what appeared to be the leader of the colonists, a man named Reginald Wheatley.

"Sir," Marcus respectively greeted, taking the prooffered hand and shaking it firmly, "Your arrival was timely. We wouldn't have been able to hold out much longer."

"All we had to do was follow the gunfire," Reginald remarked, smiling lightly, "Although I am confused at just who you are. I see two soldiers in Alliance colors, so we initially suspected Alliance forces. But now we an asari, a turian, a hooded woman and then you? Just who and what are you?"

"Captain Marcus Shepard," he introduced, clasping his hands behind his back, "Alliance Marine Corps, established N7, Alliance Navy and member of the Special Tactics and Recon branch of the Citadel. My two colleagues are indeed marines, but the rest are my friends and comrades. They helped me stop the geth three years ago, the Collector abductions a year ago, and are now helping me put a stop to Cerberus terrorism and Reaper subjugation across the galaxy. I hope you don't mind our intrusion."

"Galactic Society Saving Service," Garrus muttered to Liara, "Saving people since 2183." The asari giggled, smiling with a nod of agreement.

"We remember you. I remember you," Reginald stated, suddenly in awe of the man before him, "You were part of that Alliance team that landed in Colony Euphoria during the geth attack. I should know; I was there. I saw you; although you were a much different man back then."

_Am I really so popular that I must constantly be running into people I know or have seen me? Is the galaxy getting smaller or something? _He nodded, smiling warmly, "I did everything I could to save the colony then Mr. Wheatley, and I will do everything I can to kick some Cerberus ass, but my priority must be to secure that prothean pod from the ExoGeni site."

"There's always another motive," one colonist shouted, "Its never about us!" His objections were almost identical to that of Arcelia Silva Martinez, a rent-a-cop he met on Feros during the old days.

Reginald turned to him, silencing the crowd with a single glare before turning back to Marcus, sighing, "I apologize, most colonists, as you know, aren't very big friends of the Alliance; not since the abductions. I just find it ironic; the very people who had been protecting and fighting for us then are now the ones occupying our land and butchering our people. But at least it isn't abduction. But just what could that prothean pod be to be of any value? ExoGeni were digging it up until Cerberus came along, and then the bastards came along and continued it. What's so damned important about it? First Euphoria with its damned beacon, and now this?"

_Best to give them the full story. No need to sugar coat it. _"The pod seems to contain a living prothean, frozen in some kind of stasis mode for fifty thousand years. We did not know this until we dug it up, and neither did Cerberus; we both assumed prothean technology was part of the rush to dig it up. We were wrong. This is far more valuable," he stated, continuing despite their looks of disbelief and skepticism, "If he's awoken, not only could he fill the historical gap that fifty thousand years has left, but he could also provide us vital intel on his people's war with the Reapers and how they were defeated. He could win the war for us, and all we have to do is wake him up."

"Then why don't you?" Reginald asked, seemingly finding the answer obvious.

"Because it isn't that simple," Liara declared, all eyes moving to her, "The stasis mode is still active, and if we opened the pod, it would kill him due to the exposure; the thaw has to be done slowly and methodically, not instantaneously. Cerberus found two nodes that can override it."

"That's the reason we were fighting this company," Marcus added, pointing to the bunker they had been defending, "One is in there."

They all looked at it, and continued doing so even as Reginald turned back, slowly nodding, "Very well. But we must ask one thing; what is the Alliance doing to liberate us?"

"Nothing. The Alliance can't afford any fleet action or marines, especially this close to Reaper territory, and with their state after the Fall of Earth, they're in no position to engage Cerberus in open battle. We're it."

"Forgotten about," the same colonist stated again, "Just like Feros. Just like all the colonies the Collectors abducted! They were ignored and abandoned, and now we're being abandoned to."

"But that doesn't mean I won't liberate this colony," Marcus declared, suddenly remembering that he had an army.

"What?" Reginald laughed, "Just you lot? I don't care how much of a invincible hero they make you out to be, but this colony is occupied by just one battalion, and that's not counting the two regiments occupying the planet, and the fleet above us. Hell, we have a destroyer hovering right over us. Unless you have an army, this colony is staying Cerberus."

"Oh, but I do. Its not, but I can change that," Marcus declared, smiling, "I recently managed to recruit the entire Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack organizations, and the Queen of Omega controls all of them, waiting for my command. What if I told you, that with one communique, I could have them deploying in full force to kick out the Cerberus invaders?"

Reginald narrowed his eyes skeptically, "Ignoring the fact that these are mercenaries we're talking about, what about the fleet above?"

"A distraction. As the tactical commander, you'll leave that up to me, but trust me, we'll find a way to drive them from orbit to engage a threat they can't ignore, and my frigate will cripple the destroyer, only our forces to deploy and retake the planet. When Cerberus' fleet returns, they'll have two Alliance fleets waiting for them, and will have no choice but to pull out."

Reginald hesitantly nodded, "Very well, captain. Unlike the Alliance, you didn't abandon the colonies; you were out there, saving us. You're a trustworthy man, and we're going to trust you on this. We can only hope that you deliver."

"Your trust is well placed, Mr. Wheatley," he turned and began to approach the bunker, motioning Kasumi ahead to hack it while the colonists take up defensive positions around the area to ward off any Cerberus attempts to retake lost ground. Marcus all the while marched the steps, Kasumi already hacking the lock by the time he reached the top, Liara quickly at his side and Garrus, Keeling, James and EDI forming up behind them.

"This encryption is pretty lame when you don't have a combat engineer constantly changing the frequencies and patterns," the thief mused verbally, tapping a button on her omni-tool that immediately caused the haptic interface to flash and for the door to slide open, revealing its interior. Turning to them, she bowed in an overly dramatic manner, grinning all the way, "Welcome to the Mad Scientist's lab; were undoubtably weird stuff is guaranteed to find a home."

Marcus moved in first, scouring the small room for any signs of resistance; there was nothing, no life. Holstering his rifle, a mattock he had taken from a dead centurion, he examined the room; it was a box shape, and had numerous consoles around it, obviously portable ones brought by the Cerberus science team. Upon further investigation, they found the node; it stood out like a sore thumb, the smooth, sleek, blue and green design of it standing out amongst the imperialistic design of human terminals. It hummed with energy, pulsing blue every five seconds, and looked completely exposed. A large vidscreen hung above, only static barring its display; upon further observation, they could see the screen hooked up to the node.

"Obviously Cerberus tried to access the node and understand it," Liara noted.

"Static was their answer," Garrus concluded.

"Its only because they couldn't understand the prothean language," Liara retorted, accessing the terminals to see what data they collected, "They extracted data from it, what appears to be...biological...mental...data, but couldn't comprehend any of it because its in prothean."

"But none of us can rea-" Garrus then stopped himself, eyes falling upon the back of Marcus' head, "Actually, scratch that. There is one person in the room who can read prothean."

Marcus nodded, looking at Liara, "Remember the cipher back on Feros, Liara? The one Shiala gave me? Remember how it gave me complete understanding of how to be prothean, and how to speak and understand their language? I'm the only one who can make sense of this data."

"You're right," Liara stated, standing away from the terminal, motioning to the node, "Then by all means, Shepard, process the data. Tell us what it means."

"Uh...how?" Marcus asked, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling a bit dense.

She rolled her eyes, motioning again to the node, "Simply touch it. All prothean technology seems to be hardwired around touch."

He nodded, and slowly moving forward, eying the small device. It reminded him of a smaller version of Object Rho, and that was not a fond memory. But he pushed the thoughts away, knowing that to find the override, he had to sift through the data to find it. So he hesitantly reached a hand out, first removing his armoured gauntlet and then the glove beneath, before letting his skin touch it, and his whole hand press against it.

In that instant, he blacked out, and for a few moments, it was the beacon visions all over again. But this was slightly different; slightly less epilepsy inducing, and more sturdy, more structured and less random. He heard screaming, and he saw what looked to be the head of a prothean, jaw opened wide in a perputual scream frozen in time. A Reaper airhorn sounded, and the image seemed to still itself, showing an image of a dense forest, a Reaper Destroyer marching across it, red beam of death cutting swaths right through the forestry, likely killing dozens of protheans below, a prothean city itself standing tall in the distance, skyscrapers glimmering as fire consumed them. And as quickly as the image presented itself, it was gone, more screaming, being heard, and then once more, darkness consumed him.

Suddenly, he was awake, but he was not back in the bunker; he was in some vast, underground facility; the ceiling was a dozen meters above him, and large observation windows to his right showed a city on fire, Reapers trudging along it, spreading death as they moved, fighters engaging them and exploding in the sky. Smoke engulfed the sky, choking the planet in death, and screaming echoed throughout the plains. The interior was dim and yellow in color, but that was pretty much all he could make out of it. But what caught his eye was the city outside itself. It was prothean. _Just where the hell am I?_

Fire crackled all around him, and he found himself slowly moving back as shapes moved towards him and somehow, he knew exactly who they were. _Nakar. Pilat. Traka. Aelus. Culet. _They were his troops, his men, and somehow he knew who they were, without even meeting them. They were prothean soldiers, running towards him in a retreating fashion, and suddenly Marcus found himself wielding an unusual weapon, a rifle he presumed; it was long, elongated, sleek and had the typical blue and green design of prothean architecture. He raised it, a three-fingered hand gripping it as other figures came around the bend, more numerous than the others, and at least company sized; and when they came into range, this time, Marcus _did _know who they were.

The Collectors.

The weapon gave a thrum, and and a steady pulse of green light, much like that of the Collector Particle Beam, shot out from its barrel, impacting a Collector drone squarely in the chest and killing it instantly. He timed his shots; taking aim and taking down each Collector with precision, but eventually the enemy force became too great, and he had to start falling back. One Collector, a captain, raised another type of odd weapon, and fired, and it gave the same sound of a Collector Assault Rifle, although it sounded nothing like it; bullets of high velocity hitting Aelus in the back of the knee, and causing him to fall forwards, his weapon, one that he instantly recognized as a prothean particle rifle, of the same type he was currently wielding, sliding from his grip as the captain finished him off.

He lowered his weapon, and his hand shot forward, biotics shooting forth as he grabbed the Collector and tossed it aside; unlike most biotics however, this prothean's biotics were bright green. He continued his assault, and both three-fingered hands shot forth this time, unleashing a green biotic tidal wave that knocked the entire Collector horde pathetically aside, along with a few other types of husks of species he recognized once more; Densorin. _Wait, what the fuck is a Densorin? How do I know t-_Then it hit him. Liara's words.

_...what appears to be...biological...mental...data..._

_Mental data. This is a memory. _

His men formed up behind him, helping him continue the defense as the Collectors and huskified Densorin pushed their attack, seeming to come in unstoppable hordes. A particle rifle fired from within the horde, hitting Nakar square in the shoulder, causing him to cry out as it seemed to ignore his kinetic barriers, and he fell onto his back, stunned from the attack. Marcus heard the man's thoughts, and he knew the battle was lost, so he launched another biotic shockwave at the closing enemy, opening what looked to be the prothean equivalent of an omni-tool, and watching as the holographic form of another prothean, the hologram being bright green, appeared before him. Just like all the other prothean soldiers, Marcus noted, they all seemed to wear somekind of sumarai type armor; bright crimson armor that covered their entire body save for their head and everything below the knees. They looked exactly like Collectors, but with multicolored skin; their head crest was grey, while their face was the same color as humans, and seemed to have canine teeth, six eyes, and a small, almost non-existent nose. Combine that with their triangle-shaped head, and the protheans were a very unique race indeed.

When he spoke, it was an air of authority, and Marcus guessed the man who's memory he was witnessing was the commanding officer of this unit. When he spoke, it came off as having a very thick jamaican accent, and it surprised him heavily, "Victory, seal the doors!"

"Acknowledged," the holographic prothean, which was obviously a VI, named Victory responded, this one's accent sounding more along the lines of a cross between German and/or Russian, "Sealing the doors. You have ten seconds to get inside." Then the sound of metal moving could be heard, and Victory winked out of existence, allowing him to kneel down and grab hold of his wounded comrade, his squad providing covering fire as he dragged him behind the closing blast doors. He watched the Collectors reach the door just as it sealed shut, the prothean commander taking a deep breath, as he whorled to face his squad. Then his eyes seemed to glare past them, right at the destruction behind them; flames licking at the massive corridor.

He seemed to frown, as if in vehemence, before beginning to pace, speaking as he did, "How many have we lost?"

Victory appeared out of nowhere, hands clasped behind his back as he eyed the commander, "Reaper forces have destroyed approximately three hundred thousand lifepods."

He whorled back to face the VI, and moved in his face, anger and fury in his voice, "A _quarter _of OUR PEOPLE!?" after a moment, he calmed down, turning around, shaking his head, "How am I meant to retake the galaxy in fifty thousand years if we can't even get a million soldiers into stasis without dying?"

"The Reapers will continue to advance. We must persist," Victory insisted, "For the Empire."

"For the Empire," the commander seemed to return, and then suddenly an explosion rocked the facility, the prothean turning towards it, not even needing to know what caused it, "Where?"

"Portside bulkhead, northern side," Victory responded, winking out.

"Then all forces advance to the North!" he shouted, beginning to sprint at full, brandishing his particle rifle once more, "This base _cannot _fall!" And then all went black once more, and Marcus felt himself returning to the world of the modern times.

As if waking from a deep slumber, his eyes shot open, finding himself back inside the bunker. He found Liara and Garrus crouched next to him, obviously startled by his sudden awakening and the rest of his squad lingering nearby.

"Shepard, you're awake!" Liara exclaimed, "You did it. Don't know how, but the node made a loud beeping sound before saying something in prothean. I guess that means it worked."

"I saw it Liara. I saw them," Marcus explained, "The data wasn't just biological information, it was a memory, and the cipher allowed me to see it. I saw them fifty thousand years ago, during their fight with the Reapers. I saw the weapons they used, what they fought...how they were losing. The technology Liara...it was definitely superior to what we have. But I also saw the Collectors. They were fighting the Collectors."

"You saw the protheans during their war with the Reapers?" Garrus asked, fascinated, "What was it like?"

"What you'd expect," Marcus glumly stated, sighing heavily, "Completely hopeless."

They continued to the next node in the next bunker, and once again he found himself in the boots of the unnamed prothean commander. But unlike before, he was jump started into the hectic chaos of combat. Now was calm; the distant sounds of combat, destruction being unleashed by the full power of the Reapers nearby, and what Marcus swore had been the distant voice of Harbinger. He watched as he walked across the empty corridor, one of his men at his side, weapon holstered on his back and the rest of his squad waiting ahead. Without warning, the man next to him spoke.

"I never thought the Empire would fall," the prothean stated hopelessly.

He stopped, and suddenly wheeled on him, slapping him across the face. The prothean held his cheek, and the commander seemed to scold him, calmly, none of the anger he had before showing out, "It won't," he motioned to the facility around him, and Marcus suddenly realized it looked alot like the Archives on Ilos. _This is the facility we just dug the pod out of. _

"We will sleep here until the Reapers return to dark space," he told him, hand gripping his shoulder, the soldier suddenly forgetting that his commander had slapped him, "And then we will rise again, a million strong. And then we will prepare the next cycle; the Empire will be reborn."

"For the Empire," the soldier chanted.

"For the Empire," the commander returned once more, and they turned towards 12 opened pods; all of them waiting for their occupants. He turned towards the soldier next to him, "Go and get into your pod; within minutes, you will wake up again, in a world free of the Reapers," he patted his shoulder, and the soldier was quickly jogging off, the commander not joining them for some reason as he made to move away, Victory appearing at his side again, "Victory, broadcast the stasis readiness signal to all lifepods once they are safely stored away, and not before."

"And what of the refugees who have not yet reached the bunker?" Victory pondered, and the commander seemed to stop and ponder these words. With regret, he looked back up at the hologram and sighed.

"Their sacrifice will be remembered in the rebirth of the Empire," the commander simply stated.

_Wow, these protheans really loved 'the Empire.'_

Suddenly, another explosion rocked the base, and they both turned to watch as Collectors charged inside and charged at him again. He readied his particle rifle, anger crossing his features. Victory disappeared, and so did Marcus view of the memory as it began to fade away once more, and the darkness finally took hold.

After waking up, he was informed that both nodes had deactivated, and Liara's readings of the pod showed that the stasis had been overriden and they could now open the pod. So without further delay, they had made best speed back to where they had kept the pod, moving into the portable where it had been stored. The colonists gathered around the strange object, and were still watching even as Marcus stood next to the pod, Liara typing in the commands into the pod to open it.

Everyone took a step as a hiss escaped the pod, hatch decompressing as it slowly opened, revealing its occupant. Everyone leaned over to get a closer look, but only Marcus got a clear view of the prothean below him, lying down. The prothean was not yet awake; eyes still closed and in a deep slumber. He wore the crimson red sumarai armor that Marcus had seen the other soldiers wearing, and had three-fingered hands and three-toed feet. _Will there ever be a species that has five-fingers and toes like the asari and humanity? Why is it always three-fingers? _He had six eyes and, just like in the memory, was the perfect image of a Collector before its transformation into the abomination that it was. Then, they heard the man take a deep breath, and every step another step back, all except Marcus, who remained standing firm, hands clasped behind his back.

For the first time in fifty thousand years, a prothean was waking up.

Liara moved closer, and gasped, eyes widened in awe as she looked at the object of her passion of her archaelogy, "Goddess..."

After a moment, he did not move. But after a few more seconds, Marcus noticed one of his fingers twitch, followed by a shuffle of one of his feet; he was regaining consciousness. His mouth twitched, momentarily baring his canine teeth, before his lips spread in a grimace; or what they took for a grimace, anyway. And then, like something from a movie, everything had twitched, ending with his eyes opening, one by one.

It took some time, he imagined, for his vision to gain focus, and he took a look around. His eyes scanned the room...and then landed on them. He did not say anything, he merely stayed frozen, looking at them as if they were some kind of weird alien monsters. _Strictly speaking, we should be alien to him. The asari hadn't even achieved spaceflight when the protheans roamed the galaxy._ As the prothean stared at him, Marcus also noticed his eyes; instead of the milky white of the eye, these were golden yellow, and their irises were two black dots merged together horizontally, giving him a very alien-like appearance.

Then after a second, the strings that held the tense silence were cut, and the prothean frowned at them, before brimming with green biotic light.

Before anything could be said, the prothean launched a small shockwave in their direction, sending his entire squad collapsing onto the ground. The colonists seemed to tense, but Marcus held his hands up, telling them not to do anything, "Do not shoot or harm him!"

The prothean, grunting, weakly got up from his pod, and stood one leg after another onto the other side. His legs wobbly from his long stasis period, he fell onto all fours, shaking his head to relieve himself of the sensation he felt. He stood again, and this time moved towards the portable doors, moving back and forth like some had drunken too much.

"Let him through!" Marcus ordered, and the colonists parted, watching as the prothean passed through the open doorway and practically bolted outside. Marcus, having recovered from the ancient commander's meek biotic strike, got to his feet and sprinted in pursuit of the soldier, Liara quickly behind him, followed by the rest of the team, the asari shouting at him.

"Be careful! He's confused! Fifty thousand years of stasis; he hasn't experienced our cycle! Everything around him, including us, will be completely alien to him! He might react hostilely."

Marcus nodded, and arrived in the doorway to a odd sight; the prothean commander, particle rifle in hand, something he apparently hadn't seen previously, stood stoicly in the middle of the field, staring blankly at Eden Prime's background. He seemed completely awe...and in complete confusion.

The prothean stared meekly at the area around him as Marcus quickly, and quietly, approached from behind, his squad staying put, except for Liara. Confident the prothean wouldn't understand her, she spoke, "Remember, its been fifty thousand years for us..." Marcus arrived behind him, reaching out his hand to touch the man's shoulder to urge him to turn around.

"...but for him, its only been..."

"...a few minutes!"

Suddenly, Marcus was shoved back into the memories of the prothean commander, the one he now identified as the one in the pod, shouting the words into the face of Victory, more flames licking at the structure all around them as the VI looked stoicly back at him, hands clasped behind his back in his usual fashion.

"There is no other option," an explosion rocked the facilty again, debris falling from the ceiling above them, "The bunker is falling. You must get to your pod."

The commander was having none of it, waving his hand in the VI's face, "There are pods online! Those soldiers are still alive!"

As if echoing his previous words on purpose, the VI merely responded calmly, "Their sacrifice will be remembered in the rebirth of the Empire."

The commander snarled at the VI, but knew he was right. Sighing, he nodded his head, holstering his particle rifle on his back, shaking his head at the dead bodies surrounding them; Collector and Prothean alike. Marcus, suddenly comprehending it fully, was watching the total destruction of the prothean species.

Victory spoke once more, "General Amarak has confirmed last stand strategy," the VI recited, "Preparing neutron bombardment. All surviving troops are ordered to get into their lifepods immediately."

Snarling, he nodded, rushing over the open pod that lay waiting for him. As he did, he spoke, "How many soldiers survived?"

"Around four hundred thousand," Victory declared, "All of them within their pods."

He merely grumbled to himself, opening his pod and laying down in it, "How am I meant to retake the galaxy with only a quarter of our planned forces left..." he shook his head, watching as the pod began to recede into the wall with the other pods, hatch closing and hissing with compression.

"Beginning neutron bombardment."

He closed his eyes as the pod shook violently, shaking with the facility's decimation and purging, and opened them moments later as the shaking stopped, as if having survived an earthquake.

"Neutron bombardment completed...Commander Javik. The facility is secured."

"What's left of it," the prothean named Javik retorted angrily.

"Further adjustments may be necessary," Victory declared, "The purge compromised the facility."

Frowning, Javik spoke, "Clarify."

"Sensors are damaged," the VI explained, "Automated reactivation is not an option. You will remain within stasis until a new culture discovers this bunker. This may lead to a power shortage, due to the length of the Reaper campaign, and the evolution of the primitives in this galaxy."

_Primitives? Gee, thanks._

Javik seemed to get angry at this, and growled once more, "Do NOT shut off more pods! I need the few that are left!"

"Power needs will be triaged appropriately," Victory responded, and this seemed to calm Javik down, as he immediately lay back down, relaxing his stance, "You will be the voice of our people." A hiss could be heard as the stasis began, and Javik began to fall asleep, but not before mouthing his final words for fifty thousand years.

"I will be more than that."

And then, just like the rest of the memories, Marcus was flashed back to the present, but this time it wasn't him who stumbled and fell to the ground, but the prothean he now knew as Javik, falling to his hands and knees once more as he recovered from the memory flood, his particle rifle falling to the ground, unneeded. Marcus, surprised, simply let his hand flop back to his side. Liara spoke, voice full of worry.

"Shepard, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Liara," he responded, halting her approach by raising his hand, "But I don't think Javik is."

"Javik?" Liara asked, confused, "How do you know his name?"

"When I touched him, I saw his memory of his final moments before entering the pod. I heard his name mentioned. He was a commander, like me," Marcus explained.

"Amazing," the asari merely observed, fascinated by this.

Suddenly, Javik spoke, "_Izk oap italq pek?_"

_Why can't I understand him? I have the cipher. _Then he remembered his translator in his omni-tool, and accessed the tool responsible and disabled it, turning back to Javik, "Could you say that again?"

This time, he understood him perfectly, "I said, how many are left?"

Marcus looked at him with pity, shaking his head, "As far as we know, just you."

"Taaza qu pe ja lo?" Liara questioned, and Marcus sighed, trying to rub his temples, but realizing his helmet was off and quickly removed it, clasping it under one arm as he turned back to Javik.

"You can understand me?" Marcus asked. Javik didn't seem all that distressed by his loss, but simply lay there, crouched, looking at Eden Prime's landscape.

"Yes," the prothean responded, before feeling the need to explain himself, "Now that I've read your physiology, your nervous system. I've read enough to understand your language."

Marcus turned to Liara and Garrus, both speaking in their alien tongues, his translator disabled and no longer able to translate what they were saying and motioned to his omni-tool, showing them his translator was disabled. Both of them nodded, and remained silent, as Marcus turned back to Javik, gulping as he asked, "So...you somehow were reading me, while I was seeing..."

The prothean nodded, coming to stand, this time more fluidly, as he now got over his original grogginess, "Our last moments. Our failure."

Sick of looking at the prothean's back, Marcus moved to stand next to Javik, who immediately moved his head to look at him, six eyes glued to his two, "Your people did everything they could. They never gave up, never stopped fighting. And that's the kind of fire I could use right now. You know what the Reapers are."

Javik nodded, conceding, "I was supposed to come back to raise back the greatness of my people's Empire, but that is now longer a possibility. My people are gone, and I am all that's left. And my mission has failed anyway; we were to be reborn before the Reaper's return, so as to facilitate preparation for their coming. Now they are here, and you are no more prepared."

Cortez's voice suddenly came through the comm, "Captain, whatever you did down there got Cerberus interested; all their forces within the colony are converging on your position, and that destroyer knows you're here."

Marcus nodded, telling Cortez to return to the Normandy. He looked up to talk to Javik, only to see the prothean looking at his squad, shaking his head, "First I see a human, now I see three, a turian, and an asari," he seemed to look disgusted, hell, even shocked, "I'm surrounded by primitives."

Ignoring that little jab, Marcus turned back to Javik, "Its not safe here, and we have Cerberus forces narrowing down on us. Will you join us?"

"What is this Cerberus you speak of?" Javik asked, "Is it your name for the Reapers in this cycle?"

"No, they are a pro-human terrorist organization that recently became militarized, and we believe is indoctrinated by the Reapers."

"Ah," Javik seemed to acknowledge, as if familiar with the term, "Your cycle has them as well. Every cycle has a treacherous splinter faction of separatists that are indoctrinated. Ours was the Yuala Tor. They betrayed us and fought against us in civil war. The Reapers used them to weaken us and divide us, much as they are likely doing with your Cerberus," he shook his head, nodding, "Yes, these Cerberus seem to be nothing but puppets of the Reapers. You fight them, yes?"

"For three years, we have been," Marcus replied.

Javik nodded, apparently satisfied as he leaned down and picked up his particle rifle, brandishing it, "Then we will see if this cycle is worth fighting for, or if it is already doomed, just like those before it."

Marcus held out his hand for the man to shake, but he simply looked at it, shook his head, and then walked away, sighing heavily. Soon, however, he stopped, turning back to Marcus and moving over to him, removing his omni-tool and accessing it. Before Marcus knew what he was doing, he gave him back his omni-tool, "Send this upgrade to your asari and turian, along with your soldiers."

"What is it?"

"An upgrade to your primitive translation software," he declared, "If you were prothean, all I would have to do is touch you, and you would understand everything; that is how we taught our children. We had no need of your 'schools.' However, since I must refrain to using your technology, this translation software is upgraded so that they may understand me. Unit cohesion would falter if one could not understand commands."

Marcus glared at him, his voice a warning, "I am in command here, Javik. You may have been a Commander fifty thousand years ago, but right here and now, I command this unit, and I will not have you undermining that authority."

"As a Prothean, I respect authority," Javik growled, turning to walk away, "But you have yet to have shown me that you have earned it, and therefore, I will only follow your commands, and hope you are the fighter this cycle is asking for. For when we exchanged thoughts, I saw some of your personality. I saw who you are. You have fire, this cycle needs that. People think you are the last hope for this cycle; let's hope you are right," and with that, Javik was gone, moving to join his squad. Shaking his head, he merely pushed ahead, and linked up with his team, who all looked at their odd new squad member.

"Javik is a part of this squad now," he announced, "And together, we're going to kick Cerberus out of this colony."

**"Keelah. A living prothean. Its quite a shock."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"You found a living prothean? I find that hard to believe."**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"You'd believe it if you were there. He was real, and boy did he enlighten us on many things. First things first, he showed us that our views of a great, moralistic and chivalristic Prothean people were completely loaded with shit. In the end, he showed us that the Prothean Empire was the exact opposite; it was bordering on fascist, was overly militaristic, highly imperialistic, cunning, and overbodingly condescending. And if it wasn't that that annoyed you, then being called a primitive or 'human' every five minutes didn't help either."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Holy shit, this was longer than expected. Aren't you happy this is TWO parts, and not one! That would have been hell to write, upload and read! **_

_**Anyway, Part 2 will be up later, hopefully. But with my holidays coming to an end, it isn't likely to be soon, more like later. As you already know, Part 2 will be the retake of Eden Prime; you wanted your war assets used, well, this is just a taste of what I'll be doing with them. I never believed Shepard would just gain these assets and then they'd sit on their ass for the rest of the game until needed at the end; this is a war, and your forces are always constantly fighting. Which means they don't sit on their ass; they participate. Which means we get to see Marcus leading legions of Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack into battle. Sound cool? Fuck yeah! I can't wait to get writing it!**_

_**Next Chapter's contents:**_

_**1. The Battle for Eden Prime: Javik, Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack combat, along with some Aria and her mercs. There will be snippets from the orbital battle between the Alliance and Cerberus as well, if I can fit them in.**_

_**2. Conversation with Javik. Conversations with Cortez, Samantha, Keeling and James (if I can fit them in! If not, next chapter!)**_

_**Until next time! (Where are you!? I got ONE review last chapter! Come on guys, if you're reading this, review! Live me some feedback! I need to know I'm appreciated!)**_

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


	12. Chapter 10 From Ashes Pt2

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TEN:**

**FROM ASHES PART TWO**

_June 5, 2186_

_1842 hours._

_Cargo Storage, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In Orbit over Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik._

Marcus waited for the elevator to ascend as he took a long winded, squaring his shoulders as best as he could do, wearing combat armor. They had only been back on the ship for half an hour, and he was already back in his Terminus armor, suited up and ready for combat. His weapons were strapped to his back, but he had decided to leave the helmet in the armoury until he had spoken with Javik; their new prothean crew member. The very discovery still sent shocks through him as he thought about it, and even now he was still trying to come to terms with what they had pulled out of the ground. _Fifty thousand years...God, that's a long time to be asleep. And for him, it might as well have been yesterday._

The elevator arrived on the fourth deck, and he stepped out, turning left to head towards the Cargo Storage Bay; it had originally been the home of Urdnot Grunt, a krogan supersoldier bred from a test tube and created by a mad krogan scientist (a very rare term) called Okeer on the planet of Korlus. The krogan wasn't just normal; he was a supersoldier, with the power, strength and abilities of a krogan pre-genophage. He had been a valued crew member of the Normandy, and now he was likely on Tuchanka, helping Wrex rally the krogan clans for war. Now his old home would be the home of their new guest.

Tapping the interface, the door opened and he stepped inside, immediately noticing a major difference in the interior of the room. What had once been a brightly lit, grey steel room, with observation windows covering the right wall, Grunt's tank at the back, and a guard rail covering the central right, was now a dimly lit room with a few crates lying around, the guard railing removed and floor plating added, the windows sealed off with thick bulkheads, and Grunt's tank removed completely, with two desks in its place, and a vidscreen hanging over them from the ceiling, data of the Normandy running through it. And to be honest, he didn't like it. _Was it really necessary for the Alliance to retrofit this room? It seems completely pointless. It serves no purpose but to store crates. Guess they were desperate to remove the 'Cerberus stench' from the ship, I guess._

The room had occupants, namely in the position of Alliance marines standing guard in sections of the room; namely the Normandy's entire security detail, with Keeling standing at the front, rifle harnessed around her chest while she tapped away at her omni-tool, scanning Javik, who stood inbetween the two desks at the end of the room, sitting down looking intently at all of them with a look of disgust. Liara stood next to Keeling, looking down at him, arms crossed and still gazing in awe at the person before her. He nodded to the only marine in the room who noticed his approach, and the marine immediately snapped a salute, shouting.

"Captain on deck!" he shouted, and they all turned around immediately, lowering their weapons and snapping firm salutes. Keeling did the same, before turning back to her omni-tool, and Liara merely nodded at him, not familiar with the human custom. Marcus let it slip though as he came to stand on Keeling's right; he wasn't really a big fan of 'military practice' anyway. He played loose with strictness on his ship, and he liked it that way.

Javik shifted his look to the room's new occupant, and simply shook his head, looking at the floor as he mumbled something about being surrounded by primitives. He looked at Keeling, initially shooting a confused look at Liara's irritated features. When she saw this, she quickly elaborated, turning to look at him, "Second Lieutenant Keeling won't let me talk to him. Of course, her excuse was..." she motioned to Keeling to continue, and she did so, right on cue in fact, and without even pausing to look away.

"First contact with an alien species; Alliance protocol dictates we assume hostility and until it can be proven otherwise," she stated, and Liara nodded, rolling her eyes.

"Thank you," before turning to Marcus, anger in her eyes, "Which is completely ridiculous! You can't just assume someone is hostile!"

"We learnt from the First Contact War," Keeling justified, "The turians attacked us without even scolding us, which means we can't trust anyone we haven't already put a name too. He's the first prothean anyone has ever encountered, and given his attitude towards us on Eden Prime, I'm not taking any chances with this crew's safety."

He rested a hand on the N7's shoulder, and she turned to look at him, her eyes set in her usual steely gaze, "I think we can handle this, Lieutenant. Liara is an expert on protheans, so I think she can handle one. I'm heavily-armed, and I think I can handle him if he tries anything. Have your men stand down and return to their posts; and that means you too. I need you rested before we land back on Eden Prime tomorrow."

She nodded, snapping a salute as she deactivated her omni-tool, "Very well sir, I transfer command of this to you. Anything happens, contact us; I'll have two men waiting outside just in case you need assistance."

He nodded, returning the salute before relaxing it. Keeling did the same, and quickly pivoted on the spot, motioning for the squad to leave, all of them following behind her. When the door slid shut again, the room was plunged back into silence. Marcus coughed awkwardly, and both Liara and himself turned to the seated prothean, who simply continued staring at the ground unmoving. He noticed the prothean's unique rifle laying on one of the desks, along with what looked to be a miniture prothean beacon, hovering a pedestal and no more bigger than his hand; he had no idea what it was, but it clearly held some importance to the prothean. He didn't notice it before, but he also noticed a water basin on the left, just infront of the left desk, and he frowned at it. _A water basin? What use is there for that on a ship?_

_Don't be a hypocrite. You're the one with an aquarium._ He sighed, deciding that the insanities of the Normandy were nothing to be surprised of at this point, and focused his gaze back on Javik, who remained stoic.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "So...how do you want to start this Javik? I know its been fifty thousand years, and there's alot to fill in."

Liara nodded, "Quite alot has happened since the last cycle."

Javik continued to ignore them, and Marcus, deciding he needed to get the prothean's question, asked a more direct question, "You're not going to be a problem, are you?"

This finally caught his attention, and he fixed the captain with a venomous glare...or so he assumed it was; it looked menacing enough, and the prothean was quite intimidating. His six eyes opened and closed all at once, and then he was standing up, eyes never leaving his. When he was standing at his full height, Marcus noticed he was only slightly larger than him, and it was barely noticable; but he almost towered over Liara. He looked at Marcus for a few moments, before breaking the pregnant silence, voice devoid of emotion, "That depends on you," and before he knew it, the prothean lashed out, hands gripping Marcus' arms as he felt memories, both of his own and Javik's, flash through his mind.

"I can sense fear in you," the prothean declared, opening his eyes to meet Marcus' once more, "Anxiety and distress. The Reapers are winning," but then he seemed to lose his disgusted gaze, lips creasing in impression, "But you are holding out; batting down the fear, replacing it with determination. You are ready to give yourself to destroy the Reapers; this is good. This is the foundation of a warrior."

Then he let go of him, and Marcus took a step back, shaking his head and scrunching his eyes shut, before opening them, feeling slightly dizzy after that invasion of his mind. He glared at the prothean, but kept his anger in check at the intrusion, "What do you mean 'you sense?' That's twice you've invaded my mind."

"All life leaves clues for those who can read them," Javik explained, turning away as he walked over to the water basin, seemingly attracted by it as he braced against its edge, looking at his reflection in the still water, "It is in your cells, your DNA. Experience is a biological marker."

Marcus and Liara shared a glance, both of them intrigued by this information, and he suddenly turned back towards the ancient soldier, voice speaking his next question before his mind thought about it, "And just what was that I experienced on Eden Prime? Because that was one hell of a flashback."

"Eden Prime? That is what you call this planet now? During my cycle, it was called Olos Trak; it was one of our mining colonies. But I digress," the prothean shook his head, before nodding lightly, "The battle left its own mark on me; I communicated this to you when I touched you. It can work both ways however. When I touch you, I can sense your memories, your emotions, your immune system. But as this occurs, you sense the same, and the transfer becomes mutual."

"Like your beacons?" Liara asked suddenly, "They seemed to react to touch as well."

"Yes," Javik stated after some hesitation, as if surprised by the question, and he turned around completely, walking over until he stood half a meter from them. Then, again, he touched Marcus, grabbing his left arm, and suddenly Marcus watched the vision of the beacon flash through his mind once more, conjuring memories from three years ago; people dying, Reaper airhorns, images of Ilos, and a Reaper in the circumfrance of a planet; the prothean warning. Suddenly, the prothean let go, and he backed away. For the first time since he arrived on the Normandy, he was surprised once more, "...you found one. You saw it all - our destruction, our warnings..." suddenly his face creased in fury, grabbing Marcus by the collar and pulling him forward so he could yell in his face, "_**Why were they not heeded!? Why didn't you prepare for the Reapers, human!?**_"

Marcus growled back, swatting the prothean's arm aside with his other arm, "Its 'Captain,' _prothean_," he responded, deciding to fight fire with fire, "And nobody could understand your warnings. The beacon nearly killed me," he waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, "There was also these three fuckwits we call a Council, but they merely an extension of our unpreparedness. You can blame them if you wish."

Javik shook his head, some of the fury gone from his eyes, but he was still agitated as he began pacing. He snorted suddenly, looking unimpressed with what he was told, "Then communication is still primitive in this cycle."

Marcus rolled his eyes. _You know, this guy is a real condescending prick. Were all protheans like this? Egotistical douchebags? _Marcus quickly came to his defense, not that he needed to, hands clasped behind his back, "We pieced together what we could. Because of that, we were able to stop a Reaper invasion three years ago."

The prothean merely shrugged, "Then your extinction was only delayed."

Marcus didn't even answer that one, only giving him a steely, stoic stare. As if the moment was about to get too tense for her to handle, Liara stepped between them, moving over to the vidscreen hanging over them, "Now we have your species plans for the superweapon they were building," an image of the weapon came up on screen, a design image of it rotating on the holographic display, "We're going to build it," she looked at him, crossing her eyebrows in determination, "And we're going to destroy them. We're going to stop the Reapers, once and for all."

Javik, was once again surprised, and Marcus saw confusion on his face as he looked at Liara, meeting her kinder eyes, "Superweapon?"

Liara seemed to stutter then, taken aback by his confusion, "The weapon your people were working-we'd hoped you could tell us how to finish it. Its missing a key component, and its why your people weren't able to finish the weapon in time."

Javik looked over the designs, and simply sighed, shaking his head, "My men only heard rumors of its existence; it was a well kept secret among our people. All we know is that every resource was being pulled into it, while our worlds kept falling, one by one. In the end, my people were destroyed anyway, and it was never completed."

Marcus, growing weary of this, decided to get to the point, "Then you don't know anything about the Catalyst?"

After a moment of pondering, the prothean turned to look at him, and he swore he saw an almost sympathetic gaze, "No. I was a soldier, not a scientist," he turned away, leaning against the basin once more, "Skilled in one art: killing."

Liara, interest still peaked despite the prothean's hostile attitude, poked with more questions, "What was your mission? Why were you buried down there in that pod?"

Javik took a second to collect himself before answering, "Among my people, there were...avatars...of my many traits: bravery, strength, cunning. A single exemplar for each."

Marcus frowned, nodding along, "And which one are you?"

Javik's voice took on a dark tone, "The embodiment of vengeance. I am the anger of a dead people, demanding blood be spilled for the blood we lost," he gripped the table with a vice-like grip, one uncanny for a person with only three-fingers, "Only when the last Reaper is destroyed will my purpose be fullfilled. I have no other reason to exist," he turned around, meeting Marcus' glare with his own, "Those who share my purpose become allies. Those who do not," his eyes narrowed dangerously, "Become casualties."

Marcus nodded, "While nothing in our fight against the Reapers currently has been that cut and dried, I can understand what you mean; those who stand in the way of what I'm trying to do have become casualties; will become casualties," he breathed in, nodding as he did, "That being said, that doesn't mean I'll dumb myself down to pure, cold-blooded murder to get what I want. Only when its necessary."

Javik shook his head, scoffing, "Because you still have hope that this war will end with your honor intact," he slammed a fist into his basin, and turned back to them, canines bared as he growled, "Stand in the ashes of a _trillion souls, _and ask the ghosts if honor matters," Marcus simply stood there, not answering, and Javik nodded, turning away, "The silence is your answer."

Before Marcus could verbally lash out at the prothean, Liara spoke once more, drawing their attention to her, "And just what is that, hovering above your desk?"

Seeing her pointing at the hovering object he had seen before, Javik turned towards it, face emotionless, "That is a memory shard; known as an Echo Shard among my people."

Liara nodded ecstatically, "Could it help us with the device?"

And for the first time since Marcus saw him, he saw a brief twinge of pain, melancholy and fear in the prothean's eyes, before it was mixed away, eyes becoming uncaring once more, "No. It contains only pain," he turned towards Marcus with renewed vigor, teeth bared once more, "But I _will _help you fight. And the last thing the Reapers hear before they die, will be the last voice of the Protheans sending them to their grave."

Just as Javik turned back to his desk, obviously believing his words as a goodbye to them, Liara spoke once more, hurrying over to him, her hands wringing in an endearing way that reminded Marcus of Tali, "If you don't mind...I have a few more questions I'd like to ask."

If Marcus were Javik, he'd be sighing, rolling his eyes or groaning at this point at the idea of further interrogation by the asari, but he simply turned around, eyes meeting hers without emotion, and he made no response. Seeing his silence as a urge to continue, Liara began pacing, becoming the excited asari archaelogist he remembered rescuing on Therum all those years ago, "I've written over a dozen studies on your species. I've published several journals-"

The prothean, seemingly ignoring her, turned to Marcus, crossing his arms and looking meekly surprised, "Amusing. The asari have finally mastered writing."

Liara, her excited daze broken, suddenly stopped, hands falling to her sides as if disappointed, and eying him with a careful gaze, "Sorry?"

Javik shook his head, leaning against the basin behind him, "Nevermind. Be quick with your questions; I have much to ponder on about this cycle."

Liara, seeing it was a challenge, spouted her first question, "Well, what about this sensory ability you have? Its amazing. None of the current species have your kind of abilities."

"We evolved with it," Javik summarized, "We evolved as hunters; reading a thousand details in our environment ensured our survival. As we became more civilized, we transferred this ability and shaped our technology around it. We developed weapons that only reacted to the DNA of ourselves, beacons that could hold thoughts and memories, like a database, and complex ideas could be transferred to another in seconds. It made education much simpler; we were able to teach a child everything it needed to know with a single touch."

"Interesting," Marcus noted, suddenly interested, "What about this room? Could you read into it?"

The prothean nodded, and crouched on the floor, his hand touching it as he closed his eyes. After a moment, he stood up again, eyes opening, and leaning back against the basin, "There was...liquid. A form of incubation. The DNA of a...krogan?" he seemed interested by this, but continued nonetheless, "The DNA of a krogan who...lived here. He was powerful, prone to violence. He had a confrontation with a human in this room," he turned to Marcus, "Ah...the human was you."

Marcus nodded, impressed, "Yes...you're talking about Grunt. He used to be a part of my crew; I had to release him from a tank we had found him in, which is where the liquid came from. He didn't know who I was, so we had a confrontation until I could calm him down. I had to 'impress him' first."

"Krogan are hard to impress. It says alot about your character," Javik complimented, but quickly continued, "And if he were my enemy, I'd have given him a wide berth. There is great strength in his genes," Javik almost seemed impressed, something along the lines of a small grin crossing his face before evaporating.

"What was prothean civilization like?" Liara hurriedly asked, eager to move on, "I've always wondered! What sort of government did you have? Was it like our Council; did all the races work alongside you? And what were your religious beliefs? Or perhaps-"

Javik once again interrupted her. Verbally, "I do not know what my civilization was like. But what does it matter? We are dead now. What we once were is inconsequential."

"I apologize," Liara stated, shaking her head, "But your history has always been a lifelong passion of mine. So I was wondering...what was it like?"

"As I said, I would not know," he stated simply, shrugging, "When I was born, the Empire was already at war with the Reapers. I was born on our homeworld, Malontor. When I was born, the first thing I saw was my world on fire."

Shocked by the sudden information, Marcus took up after the stunned Liara, and spoke the question she did not utter, "What was prothean civilization like _before _the Reaper invasion?"

"Do you not listen, human?" Javik asked, shaking his head, seemingly annoyed by the repeated question, "I do not know. However, I can tell you were the dominant species in our cycle. We ruled the galaxy, and everyone bowed to our will; the Empire was galactic society at its highest peak."

Liara, recovering from her shock, added her own two cents worth, "My studies indicated you were the only race engaged in space travel at the time. I always found that curious," she frowned, "But what you just said insinuates there were others?"

"We were one empire, composed of many subjects. The Empire was the core of everything," Javik explained, taking pride in his words, "The Densorin were one species among many, along with the Oravores, Ditakur, Enduromi, the Synril and the Vandomar. In the end, all of them came to call themselves Prothean. Some had to be persuaded, others had to be crushed. But in the end, they accepted our rule."

"And what if they didn't wish to be part of this Empire?" Marcus asked, clearly not going to like the answer.

"They didn't have a choice," was Javik's blunt answer.

Marcus narrowed his eyes confrontationally, "Are you saying you enslaved the other species?"

Javik shook his head, "Any could have opposed us if they wished. And if they had won, they would have ruled. Many tried. None succeeded. The Empire was too vast, too strong, too numerous. We rained supreme. Our fleets were powerful, and our soldiers were disciplined warriors," he seemed to be indulging in what he would call 'nostalgia.' Not that Marcus would call it that.

"I had no idea protheans were so...severe," Liara stated, seemingly losing the awe she had and dropping into slight loathing.

"It was by necessity," the prothean justified, "Very early we encountered the dangers posed by machine intelligence; what you would call artificial intelligence. They rebelled against us."

Javik's words immediately brought an epiphany, "That sounds alot like what happened between the quarians and the geth."

Javik frowned at him, "The quarians?" he frowned even further, "And what are these geth?"

"The machines the quarians created. They rebelled against the quarians as well," his voice became melancholy, "The masters did not win. Now they wander the stars in the Migrant Fleet, and the geth rule their homeworld, although I'm currently trying to bring peace between them so I can count on them as allies to fight against the Reapers."

"Then the quarians got what they deserved. You must never meddle with machine intelligence. My people learnt that the hard way," he shook his head, "In the end, the machines, the ones we called the Zha'til, rebelled against the Empire and had to be dealt with; another race, called the Zha, were dying of a disease we had introduced to their world, and attempted to adapt by augmenting themselves with machine intelligence; this had the opposite effect, and the technology seized control of their bodies, and transformed them like  
Reapers transform us into husks. Soon, the Zha were extinct, and in their were the Zha'til; and they quickly rose against us, seeking to destroy all organic life they could find," he stopped for a second, pondering, "It is by now, that I believe the Reapers were involved in some way with their motives. That the Zha'til were indoctrinated. But I cannot prove it; not that it matters anymore. What does matter is that the Empire united its citizens and urged them to fight; we triumphed, and we utterly destroyed the Zha'til. They attempted to regroup, but we managed to detonate a dark energy bomb in their home system's sun, causing to supernova. We ended the Zha's misery, and ended our enemy."

"To this day, it was known as the Metacon War," he snarled, suddenly remembering something, "Then, when the Reapers arrived, they rebirthed the Zha'til, and used them against us, along with the separatists, much like they use Cerberus against you. It was then our Empire learned one crucial fact; that machines had surpassed us eons ago, and in ways...we couldn't possibly imagine. The Reapers were the embodiment of machine evolution, as far as we saw it. Of what machines could become, if left unhinged."

"What was with the pods down in that facility?" Marcus asked, changing the subject to something less...gritty, "There had to be thousands of them, but you were the only one left."

"The Empire had fallen, and we knew our cycle was lost," Javik explained, nodding to his own words, "I was to lead a final vanguard; one million of our finest soldiers, all under my command."

"More protheans were meant to have survived into this cycle?" Liara asked, worried by that.

"Yes," he answered with long lost impression, "Under my leadership, the Empire would have been reborn. We would have evolved your races and used you to finish our weapon. You would all be trained in war, and all of you would fight alongside us, uplifted for war. We would have led the races of this galaxy to repel the Reaper invasion; and this time, we would have had fifty thousand years to prepare. But indoctrinated agents - traitors - betrayed us, and the Reapers discovered our plan; by the time we finally went into stasis, only four hundred thousand of us were left. Only a quarter of our original force."

"If your plan had worked," Marcus asked, curious, "How would you have 'uplifted' us?"

"By leaving you no other option," he stated simply, "You would have joined our army - or faced the Reapers alone."

It was Marcus' turn to deliver the questions, "What about the Prothean ruins on Mars? Were you observing my people's ancestors?"

Javik nodded, "Before the war, we cultivated species who showed potential," the prothean elaborated, "Eventually, you would have been offered a 'choice' to join the Empire. But when the Reapers attacked, we ceased all study. We had hoped the Reapers would see your species has too primitive to harvest," he nodded, "They did. It seems the Reapers only focus on the species capable of spaceflight and have evolved along their guidelines; any species that has not achieved the technological level to be perceived as a threat, are ignored and harvested in the next cycle."

"That explains why the Reapers are completely ignoring Turvess and Parnack," Liara explained to Marcus, "The yahg and raloi haven't achieved spaceflight yet."

"Hard to imagine the yahg running the next cycle," Marcus chuckled, finding some humor in the idea. Or would the raloi?

"Is this line of questioning over?" Javik asked suddenly, "I have much to think about, and I believe you are armoured up for something."

Marcus nodded, suddenly remembering why he was here, "Yes, that reminds me. I came down here to secure your allegiance Javik; but since I have that, then all I need to tell you is to get some rest and be ready for tomorrow."

Liara turned to him, worry on her face, "Tomorrow? What's happening tomorrow?"

Marcus responded quickly, having already formed the plan in his head, "I've sent a message out to Zaeed to ask him to rendevous in the Asgard System. I've also sent a message to Sayn and Aria, asking them to bring the Eclipse and Blood Pack along with them. And Hackett should be getting back to me soon on that request for Alliance reinforcement."

"You're bringing the three mercenary groups together?" she asked, incredulous, "What possibly for?"

"Cerberus cannot be allowed to keep its hold on Eden Prime," he stated simply, "We're going to take it back, and we're going to need help."

"A foolish decision," Javik piped, bringing their attention back to him, "During my cycle, we sacrifice planet after planet to stop the Reapers; you should be willing to do the same. Do not waste soldiers and resources on retaking one planet that will likely fall the next day."

"Cerberus cannot be allowed to hold Eden Prime. They already have a tactical advantage, holding Omega in the Terminus Systems," he added, shaking his head, "Holding Eden Prime would give them an unimpeded striking point from the Exodus Cluster, especially if the Reapers are using them. We need to strike hard, and show the Illusive Man he is not invincible. Show him he can be beaten. We can take back this colony from him, and deprive him of the one thing he needs; a launching point for attacks on the Citadel. And I just know that's what he wants the planet for. No, we could deal a big blow to Cerberus tomorrow. We need Eden Prime. And with Colony New Hope back in our grasp, we only need to take out that destroyer to have our FOB," he explained to the prothean. Shortly after waking him, the rest of the Cerberus battalion holding the colony detachment had attacked en masse, hoping to drive the would-be liberators out. Javik proved to be an asset to the team; with the colonists coordinating with them, they not only defeated the battalion, but completely annihilated it; Colony New Hope was back in their hands. And from what Liara's information let out, Cerberus was using Colony Ohio as a staging area; they hadn't managed to deploy troops to take the other colonies yet. If they were lucky, they could sever the head of the invasion before it can spread; but they had to take Colony Ohio, and the only way they could do that was a mass ground attack; which relied on driving away the Cerberus fleet. Which is why they desperately needed Alliance support.

Before Javik could respond, Samantha's voice came over the comm, "Captain, you have Admiral Hackett contacting you over the comm. Says he wishes to speak to you about something important."

Another voice came over the comm before he could answer, "Hey! That's my job!"

"Um...since when?" Samantha asked.

Kelly's response was immediate, "Since I became a member of his crew a _year _ago! Where were you? I've always been this ship's yeoman!"

"Now now ladies, don't fight," Marcus tried to calm them down, grinning from ear to ear. _Of all the things to argue over, they're arguing over who gets to inform me of __**incoming messages. **__Hell, EDI could do that. Why do they need to argue over it? _"It doesn't matter who tells me, only that I get the messages. Okay?"

"Human bickering over trivial matters," Javik pondered, "We observed this even during our cycle. I see things have not changed. I do hope you humans are not part of this Council you speak of."

"They are," Liara responded, "Along with my people, the turians and the salarians."

"The salarians?" Javik asked, surprised once more, "The lizard people _evolved_?"

"Actually, last I checked, they were amphibian," Liara corrected, glaring at him.

Javik seemed to analyze her for a second, eyes glazing over, before he simply said, "They used to eat flies."

With the image of Mordin plucking flies out of the air with his tongue now stuck in his mind, Marcus turned from the prothean, cringing, "Inform Hackett I'll be right there."

And he hastily made his exit before the prothean could inform him of any other cringe worthy things.

So far, the meeting with the last prothean had been somewhat of a disappointment. But very enlightening.

**{Loading...}**

_June 6, 2186_

_1329 hours._

_War Room, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Outskirts of Asgard System, Docked with MSV Sidestep._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, Captain Palisus._

A day had passed, and so far, everything was going well. With the munitions supplied to them by the crew of the Normandy, the colonists were successful in holding off any Cerberus attempts to retake New Hope, which meant they still had their staging base; in little over an hour, his makeshift fleet would plow through the relay and deploy their forces on Eden Prime, before bugging out.

Marcus solidified his grip on the war room table before him, and looked up, eying everyone in the room. Liara was whispering silently with Samantha, who seemed to both get along very well, and he even saw Traynor smile; it was gentle, but filled with mirth. Keeling seemed to be entertaining James as he went on a rant about how useless heavy rifles were compared to light machine guns like his Revenant, and she didn't seem to talk or move until he stopped and she was able to respond; to which she ripped apart his argument. Kasumi and Garrus traded remarks and banter, while Javik seemed to stand right next to Marcus, hands clasped behind his back, and eying a certain person very hesitantly...the feeling was mutual.

Zaeed stood on the other side, leaning over the table as he examined the prothean, his new second-in-command, a turian named Palisus, standing beside him, Saber assault rifle on his back and holstered, arms in a relaxed pose as he wore his gleaming Blue Suns armor. Zaeed snorted, breaking the silence, "Just what the fuck am I looking at, Shepard?"

"The last of the protheans, human," Javik growled back, clearly not liking the mercenary's attitude, "An avatar of vengeance."

"A prothean?" he turned to Marcus, shaking his head with a grin, "You've fucking done it again, you goddam bastard."

"Done what?" Marcus asked, frowning with a smirk, "And you believe he's prothean? Just like that? Not a pretender?"

Zaeed snorted, standing up fully as he crossed his arms, "You don't fuck around, Shepard. You came back from the fucking dead, and led us through that goddam Omega 4 Relay. Seeing you with your own prothean," he pointed at Javik, "Does not surprise one fucking bit."

"I am not his prothean, primitive," Javik snapped, "You will not refer to me as so."

"He's a bit of a shit, though," Zaeed noted.

"His name is Javik, Zaeed," Marcus explained, "I think he prefers being called by name."

"Don't we all? The bastard doesn't hold a fucking monopoly on that, Shepard," Zaeed growled back, shaking his head, "Whatever, I don't fucking care. He's the last prothean, his name is goddam Javik, and that's about all I'm interested in. Hopefully the rest will bloody well show up soon so that we can-"

They all turned as the doors to the War Room slid open, and the familiar form of a salarian wearing Eclipse armor moved inside, Sayn taking his place on Palisus' left. They heard a loud snarling as Kreete was led in by Bray, the vorcha reluctantly coming to stand in front of Liara and Traynor, with Bray behind him to keep him in check, and finally, Aria walked in.

"Well well Shepard, I do like your ship," Aria mused as she walked down the steps with grace towards them, "It isn't filled with buearacratic shit stains like that on the Citadel, and it doesn't have the loud fucking idiots of Omega. I'd take it for my ship, if I didn't love Omega so much."

He shook his head as the asari ruler of the Terminus Systems came to push Palisus aside, procuring her stance next to Zaeed, who merely grunted at her attempts to garner his attention. Aria merely laughed, turning back to Marcus. Suddenly, Sayn spoke up, his voice full of confusion.

"Ah...Commander Shepard, could you please explain to me what _that _is? Some kind of experiment?" the salarian pointed at Javik, and as Marcus sighed, Kreete, Bray and Aria were suddenly looking at the prothean, eyes widening.

"What the fuck?" Aria cursed, "I wasn't aware this was a contest to see who's the ugliest piece of shit in the galaxy; otherwise I wouldn't have turned up."

"Vorcha? A batarian?" Javik muttered, shaking his head, "This cycle is full of surprises."

"Everybody calm down," Marcus reassured, standing up as he held his hands up, signalling everyone to stay down, "This is Javik...we dug up his pod on Eden Prime. He is the last of the prothean species...a soldier. He's their sole survivor, for all we know."

"A prothean?" Aria questioned, turning to him with disgust in her features, "The way the Council fucking talked about it, you'd think you were gods or something. You just look like a fucking bug to me; what a disappointment. I expected you to be slighlty more attractive too; consider that a tick off my list, too."

"Asari," Javik mouthed, completely unfazed by Aria's insults, "I remember your species when the Oravores invaded your world, and my people stopped them. You believed it was an act of the 'goddess'," he seemed to be amused by this, "Your species was primitive then, and I see not much has changed except technology."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Aria spat, "How fucking dare you!" She brimmed with biotic fury, "Fuck you, you oversized insect!"

He felt cold on his back as Javik brimmed with his own, unique biotic abilities, body wrapped in green instead of the traditional blue of biotics in their cycle, "I see the asari have finally discovered and mastered their biotics; good. But it seems your tolerance has gotten no better; you cannot even take an insult without crippling."

"Enough, both of you!" Marcus snapped, slamming his hand on the table, bringing his own biotics to bare, "Or I will toss _both _of you out an airlock, and you can settle this shit there!"

Aria laughed, turning her glare towards him, letting her body glow even more, "Are you threatening me, Shepard?"

Marcus remained unfazed, merely staring back at her with a steely expression; he was in Commander Shepard mode, and when he was like this, he was exactly what people believed him to be; unfazable, unstoppable fury encased in a human body, and a gaze that could melt most people instantly; not Aria though.

To everyone's surprise, Zaeed responded, "Just shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch," he snarled, quickly becoming the destination of Aria's hate train as her glare switched to him, "You could intimidate alliance sergeants, maybe. But this is fucking Shepard, you moron. He'll be using your ass to scrub floors once he's done sorting you out," he turned to Marcus, grinning, "I should know. He did the same shit to me on Zorya, a year ago."

Marcus nodded his appreciation, and turned towards Aria, who remained ficiously glaring at Zaeed, "Are we clear Aria? We're not on Omega anymore; on this ship, _I _reign. And there's only one rule we follow; fuck with me, or my crew, and I toss _you _out the nearest airlock?" His voice became a growl, accentuating every word, "Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

"Fuck you," Aria spat at him, but suddenly her biotics dimmed to nothing, and he felt Javik relax, his own biotics deterring to nothing, "And fine. We'll play it your way. As long as we find out just why the fuck we are here. It took me far too much time getting this fucking idiot," he jabbed a thumb at Kreete, who seemed unaware he was the topic of discussion, "to even listen to me. Get jabbering on about how 'only Shepard will order me!' and I had to tell him, 'Well he's fucking ordered you!'" She seemed to growl at this last bit, and Kreete, finally taking notice, turned to Shepard, nodding almost spastically.

"Yes yes! Kreete loyal!" the vorcha spat, overly excited at the prospect of Marcus' approval of his actions, "Did no betrayal! Kreete good! Aria not enough to break Kreete's loyalty!"

"I'm...honored, Kreete," Marcus said hesitantly, rolling his eyes mentally. _Maybe making Kreete leader of the Blood Pack wasn't just a good idea, even if its only a de facto command. But having a dumb moron is good; makes the Blood Pack easier to control, and Aria can yank the strings. Just as long as she doesn't snap those strings. _He gave a weary glance in Aria's direction, but before he could begin the briefing Javik, again, spoke, obviously having examined Kreete in detail.

"My people always saw your race as pathetically stupid. You were easy to use as cannon fodder, and disposing of your populace, should it rebel, was easy, as you had the brillance to have your entire nest out in the open," the prothean dictated, having a sarcastic tone in his voice, "But your hordes make you stronger; you can overwhelm your enemy with sheer numbers. However, vorcha, I do believe you are weak. Why does this one lead? He is beyond moronic."

Deciding he wouldn't announce to Javik that Kreete was a puppet, Marcus ignored the quip and decided to get on with the briefing before Javik chose to insult someone else. _One day on the ship, and he's already getting on everybody's nerves. _He remembered when Javik had actually entered his quarters without permission while he was showering, and he quickly covered himself up as the prothean requested to know why the captain had such quarters. He replied that he didn't know, and Javik merely snorted and left. He hadn't been very tolerable towards the prothean after that, especially not after he threatened to kill Kasumi, and would have had Garrus not disarmed him. He had justified afterwards that 'theft meant instant death in the Empire,' and that their society was, 'devoid of morals to tolerate it.' Ever since then, Kasumi had not taken kindly to the soldier. _He's a pain in the ass, but we need him. Besides, I guess its still quite the shock that he isn't quite the 'wise, old sage' we built protheans up to be; his people were tyrants, fascists and military dictators, and he has known nothing but intolerance, hatred and death. _

He turned to those assembled with a nod of his head, "Most of you are wondering why you are here; I understand I summoned your presence on short notice, but this couldn't wait. This is going to be our first major offensive on this front against Cerberus, and I needed to pool in all the resources I could muster for this one."

Aria nodded, "But why the fuck are we here? What is this offensive?"

"Maybe, you fucking bitch, if you let the goddam man talk, he'd goddam tell you!" Zaeed hissed, and the asari immediately fell silent, apparently getting the hint that insults wrre pointless with the bounty hunter, and merely waited for Marcus to continue. He did so, moving over to the other side of the map as EDI, on cue, brought up a holo representation of Eden Prime, rotating slowly, and holograms of the Cerberus fleet, all in perfect formation with their dreadnought in the middle, in orbit. He leaned against the table near Victus' station, the Primarch currently in the Mess Hall eating.

"Eden Prime is our target. It has recently been attacked and occupied by Cerberus troops, their original target being the last prothean, who clearly stands before you now," he motioned to Javik, before continuing, "Suffice to say, we stole what Cerberus was looking for right from under them; but a day later, and their static presence, proves a point I've known for a bit now; Cerberus is here to stay and continues to occupy Eden Prime. The rebels on the planet currently hold Colony New Hope, and are holding off Cerberus for now, but there is only so much we can do. We're going to relieve them," he paused, waiting for his words to take affect, "And then we're taking the planet back."

"Are you fucking serious?" Aria snapped, motioning to the holo fleet, "We're mercenaries; the best these idiots can muster are a few lack-lusterly armed freighters; they've got warships. A dreadnought, and a carrier, if I can see right. An entire battle fleet, and we're supposed to engage the fucking thing? And what about the assholes on the ground, hmm? We meant to take on an entire Cerberus army, too?"

"You think I haven't figured that out Aria? Quit running your mouth, and I'll get to that," without waiting for a response, he turned and the holo loaded animations of an Alliance fleet jumping coming into view, stopping, and then firing at the Cerberus fleet from afar, "Hackett has promised me the Sixth Fleet, under Fleet Admiral Osamu Nakamura, but that's all he can spare and risk. They will 'snipe' the Cerberus ships from afar, and hopefully draw them out," he trailed off, the animation showing a few red explosions around the Cerberus fleet, also showing their retaliation as they turned to race towards their enemy, who began to back off, "And hopefully lure Cerberus into pursuit," the Alliance fleet disappeared, and the Cerberus fleet quickly did as well, leaving nothing to protect the planet, "With the Cerberus naval force distracted, our freighters will jump the relay and make best speed for Eden Prime; once we're there, our full force will deploy in New Hope, and from there, we will launch an offensive against Colony Ohio," the holo zoomed in fully, and the holographic terrain of Eden Prime appeared, a detail view of the battlefield, and even giving exact measurements; Colony New Hope was shown in the middle of a grass field, while Ohio was shown to be across from a few mountains.

"Ohio is the endgame for Cerberus. That is where they ferry in their supplies, troops, munitions, and rations. Its also the only colony they now hold after losing New Hope. Likely, they are constructing a large enough army to launch further strikes across the planet," he pointed to Ohio, and a red line appeared from New Hope to Ohio, the line wiggling around the mountain side, over it, and straight into it, "This will be our line of march. We cannot risk an aerial insertion, as they will see us coming and blow our transports out of the sky; we need to be quick, quiet and efficient. The Normandy will provide orbital support when possible, and our forces should be able to encircle Ohio, and crush the Cerberus garrison," he circled his finger around Ohio, and blue, yellow and red arrows, all representing the different merc organizations, all converged around the colony from all directions, surrounding the white arrows, "My team will lead the assault, and using blitzkrieg tactics, we will domolish them. It can, and will be done."

Everyone nodded in succession, before Garrus spoke, voice clipped as he offered his opinion, "What about that destroyer hovering over New Hope? Will the Normandy take care of it?"

Marcus smiled, turning to EDI's robotic body.

"Jeff has insisted he answer that question."

Joker's voice came over the comm, "Three Javelin torpedoes loaded in their tubes, and ready to fire. That destroyer's shields are down, so the torpedoes will make short work of it. Consider the Tennessee dealt with."

"Why not the thanix cannon?" Liara asked quizzically.

Marcus shook his head, "On a destroyer? It'd be wasted, Liara. And if we wanted to, we couldn't; I saw what the thanix did to a Collector Cruiser, and it carved right through it. If that happened with the destroyer, it would leave New Hope a smoking crater, and kill everyone down below. No, torpedoes are safer."

"And the thanix's ionized particles could potentially contaminate the atmosphere," EDI added.

"That too. All taken into account, no thanix today," Marcus sighed, feeling sad he couldn't use the death machine of a weapon, but knew it was better saved for the Reapers.

Sayn spoke up, voice concerned, "Shepard, I understand your military, and a march to you is nothing. But we are talking a four kilometer march across rugged terrain, and we're mercenaries, every one of us. We are not trained to cope with these situations."

"Then start coping," was his quick response, "The Reapers aren't going to back off and let you take a breather; you need to be able to march, and run if need be. A four klick march is nothing, and to be able to get the jump on Cerberus, we need to hit them hard and fast before they know what we're up to. If they send reinforcements to New Hope, they will see us, and that'll be soon, so we must act quickly. Besides, I'm pretty sure you can take it."

Sayn nodded his consent, carefully eying the holo infront of him.

"A quick and decisive win with minimal casualties on our side, and maximum on theirs," a voice flanged from the top of the steps, "That is very turian, Captain. I'm impressed."

Marcus smiled as Victus descended the steps, but frowned when he saw the turian wasn't wearing his casual clothes, but rather his scarred battle armor, "Thank you, Primarch Victus. Although I don't see why you're wearing armor."

"I'm getting ready for battle," he stated, but seeing Marcus look, shook his head, "No, Captain, I will not stay hiding up in this ship; that is not a turian's duty. No, I will be down there in the thick of it, the way turians like it, and I will lead the force with you. You can't lead the entire force single-handedly, and you're going to need division commanders. I was an ArchGeneral in the turian military before I was Primarch; I can do it."

"I'm sure you are Primarch," Marcus addressed, "But I cannot lose you. You're too damn valuable to this alliance for you to die to some lucky Cerberus bastard. If you die, this krogan-turian alliance has no chance, and the war summit is over. I need the turians."

"And you will get them. I am not stupid captain, I know when to keep my head low, and when I need to sight down my rifle," he retorted, making sure his weapons were strapped to his back, "But I will be leading. I have not fought Cerberus yet, and I must know what kind of enemy they are. I might be sending turian soldiers to fight them in the near future."

"Very well Primarch," he stated, turning to his team, motioning for EDI to turn off the holo, "We'll deploy evenly; the Normandy will lead the charge, and will take care of that destroyer so you have a clear path to land; a shuttle will then deploy me and my squad into the colony. Javik, you'll be with us," he stated, turning to the asari ruler, "Aria, you'll be second freighter in and with your troops. Third will be Sayn and his Eclipse, followed by Zaeed and his Blue Suns, and then Kreete and his Blood Pack. Once on the ground, I will take command of the Blue Suns and Blood Pack, while Victus takes command of the Eclipse and Aria's men. We'll march in ordered columns; Blood Pack krogan up front, vorcha in reserve. Blue Suns in the middle, followed by Eclipse; Sayn, I want some YMIRs on the flanks. And if you can, some LOKIs," the salarian nodded, and he continued, "Aria's men will be evenly distributed, and my team will take the front in a Mako."

"We'll be getting armoured support?" Keeling asked, surprised.

"Courtesy of Mr. Massani," Marcus grinned, "We get four Makos, and no more. The other three Makos will be up the back, and mostly under Victus' command; but my team will be taking one Mako and leading. I will be driving," Liara and Garrus groaned, but he elected to ignore them, "YMIRs will cover the flanks, along with any LOKIs or FENRIS' the Eclipse can spare. Obviously, gunships are out of the question, so we'll make do with some anti-aircraft weaponry; yes Vega, you get to bring the Cobra," he heard the marine fist pump, and silently shook his head, "If that's all, we only need to wait for Nakamura's fleet to arrive. Any further questions?"

Aria raised her hand, suddenly polite and he sighed, nodding, "Yes?"

"I will not take orders from a Primarch," she growled, "_I _rule myself, and I will not-"

"Noted. Victus," he turned to him, "Feel free to shoot her if she resists any commands," he turns back to his crew, Aria clearly incredulous, "Any helpful questions?"

Garrus simply snorted, and looked at him, "When can we start?"

Marcus smiled, turning to Traynor, "Samantha, please inform Joker to inform me when Nakamura enters the system."

"Yes captain," she replied, saluting before then skipping out of the room. He turned to the rest of them and nodded firmly.

"Everyone, dismissed."

**{Loading...}**

_June 6, 2186_

_1550 hours._

_The Peaks, Kethar Mountains, Colony Outskirts, Eden Prime._

_The Reaper War, Alliance Space Campaign: Liberation of Eden Prime._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Shadow Broker Liara T'Soni, Second Lieutenant Imogen Keeling, Soldier Javik, Master Thief Kasumi Goto, Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian, EDI, Second Lieutenant James Vega, Blue Suns Commander Zaeed Massani, Captain Palisus, Mercenary Leader Aria T'Loak, Eclipse Commander Sayn, Blood Pack Commander Kreete, Primarch Adrien Victus._

The Mako rumbled along as he continued to drive it forward, wheels kicking up gravel and grass and dirt as it padded along. It was a steep climb, but the Mako was designed to have tough grip on its tires, and be damned if the Alliance didn't lie; the Mako moved effortlessly up the hill, but at a slow pace, the engine roaring. Marcus was at the driver's seat, pushing along on the acellerator while his squad was sat in the back, James manning the turret. Behind them was a long column of mercenaries; a full regiment; four thousand men. Most of it was made up by the Blue Suns, as they were more of a private military contractor than the other mercenary companies, while Eclipse had smaller numbers due to their reliance on tech, and Blood Pack had krogan; nuff said, really.

They were making speed, considering. The Blue Suns, to their credit, trudged on, or though whether that was due to Zaeed yelling and calling them 'pussies' everytime they slowed down, or kicking them in the gut everytime they attempted to sit down, was probably a good motivator. Sayn was clearly exhausted, but kept on, and so did his men. Aria looked to be working up a sweat, but she wasn't going to show it, and she kicked her men into shape everytime they attempted to slow down. Victus looked almost unfazed, years of military experience honed into him and giving him a toleration for long marches. But the mercenaries felt safe knowing they had the hulking forms of YMIRs, the skulking forms of LOKIs, and the four-legged runners of FENRIS' protecting their flanks, and the three Makos on the rear. So far, Cerberus hadn't spotted them, and the mountains had covered their advance, leaving them undetected by any radar or scanners.

The plan had gone flawlessly; Cerberus had taken the bait, and their entire fleet was now engaging in a tag team with Nakamura's forces somewhere in the system, allowing the Normandy to move in. Joker had unloaded two torpedoes straight into the Tennessee's spine before it even knew what was happening, and the impact and caused the destroyer to break up and slam into the ground, luckily far away from the colony, but the crash had caused a tremor; suffice to say however, Cerberus were severely distracted by the crashing warship.

Their forces had deployed fast, and once assembled, had begun their march immediately. A full hour later, and they were eight minutes out from Ohio; well, sight wise anyway. Ohio was at least another five minutes.

He turned to look behind him. Garrus had left the Mako a while ago to go up a head, hoping to find a good position from which to sight down on Ohio and see what Cerberus was up to. This left Keeling, who was catching a quick nap in the back, James manning the turret, Javik numbly staring at one bulkhead, Kasumi also resting. Sitting next to him, in the engineer's seat, was Liara.

Marcus sighed inwardly, annoyed at the idea of Liara being in the engineer's seat for some reason. Maybe it was due to her lack of engineering expertise, or simply because he had associated the seat as 'Tali's seat' a while ago, and he felt that Liara was killing that status quo. Thoughts of Tali distracted him, but he quickly recovered and concentrated on driving. _You're going to have to release this stress soon; her absence is practically killing me, and I can't be falling apart in the middle of a battle. Tali, wherever you are, know I hold you in my heart...I will find you, if you don't find me first. Just...where are you? Why won't you talk to me?_

The march soon brought them to the top of the mountains, where he brought the Mako to a halt, and motioned for the army to stop. Moving inside, he motioned for James to wake Keeling and Kasumi up, before leaping back out, and running over to Garrus' position, who had given him the navpoint to it only a moment ago. He jogged over, finding the turian prone and wedged between two rocks in a well hidden position as he viewed down his scope, looking down at the colony below. He didn't even seem to notice Marcus approaching him until the N7 was prone next to him as well, looking over his shoulder.

"See much?" Marcus whispered in his ear, and the turian simply nodded, making no sound, and continued to watch, rotating the rifle ever so slightly to cover the area. There was a click of his mandibles as they moved together, and finally he spoke.

"Take a look for yourself," he replied, moving his head slightly to look at him, "Better if you see this for yourself."

Seeing the turian positioning the sniper rifle for him to look through, Marcus shook his head, reaching into a pouch on his armor and pulling out a pair of binoculars, grinning, "I've always wanted to use these. Never got the chance," he raised them to his eyes, and instantly felt his vision enhanced as it look into the distance, and he tapped a icon on the side, and watched it rapidly zoom in, and the features of Ohio came closer.

Marcus saw that the features of the colony hadn't changed alot since his last visit; unlike some of the other developed colonies, this one had no foundations for a floor, so there was just dirt and tall strands of grass, split up by haphazardly placed bunkers, portables and buildings. A large tower stood over them, and aside from that building, the main hall was the largest building in the colony. The other buildings were just ordinary; milky white, mixed with tinges of grey and silver. GARDIAN anti-ship guns were placed over the colony; a remnant of the Alliance attempts to protect the planet from Collector attacks a year ago; before his team sent the bugs straight to hell. But the colony wasn't empty.

No civilian life existed, that much was obvious; they had either been expelled from Ohio, or murdered when Cerberus took the colony, but either way, it was devoid of any innocent life, which would make their assault easier; no innocents to account for. His eyes travelled over the colony however, and saw that, just like New Hope, there was a fully stationed battalion serving as the garrison, along with numerous teams of builders who seemed to be building fortified walls around the colony; they were nowhere near completion, and it meant their attack would completely pass them. Then his eyes fell on the troop arrangement.

Three Atlases patrolled the colony, with one guarding the wall in a stationary position, currently unmanned, its owner being an assault trooper, helmet off, husk-like face revealed and a cigarette in their mouth, wuffing on it. The other two mechs moved along the colony heartland, moving slowly and steadily, ground shaking with every step.

Numerous combat engineers were in the colony, along with untold numbers of squads of assault troopers, with a single centurion commanding a single one of those squads, a fireteam of dragoons, and possibly more, a few phalanxes of guardian shielded infantry, and Marcus could see a few Nemesis' positioned on the rooftops, scanning the distance; they would have to go first, preferrably silently. But then his eyes landed on a very peculiar type of soldier he hadn't seen before. Like the Nemesis', they seemed to be entirely female, with curvaceous body outlines, light or prominent breasts, all wrapped in a skin-tight, armoured outfit, with the same full-head, glowing red eyed helmets that the other Cerberus soldiers had. Unlike the others however, these ones had katanas strapped to their backs; mocular blades wrapped in metal sheathes, capable of tearing through armor like paper. "Those the bogies you were referring to?"

Garrus nodded, "Sure are. No idea what they are, and why Cerberus gave them swords, but I don't think we should try and get into a hand-to-hand fight with them; won't end well for us. I can take them out from a distance...silenced, of course."

"No. Too risky; Cerberus would discover the bodies before they spotted our forces charging on the horizon," he shook his head, "No, silence your sniper rifle, and take care of those snipers; our assault loses momentum if they have already spotted our troops coming from a distance and have time to form up and defend themselves."

"Fine then," Garrus stated, turning from his sniper rifle to fix a silencer on the end as he looked at his friend, "So what's the plan for this attack? We're five minutes out."

"Victus will take his men and attack from the east," he pointed off to the right, "He will initiate a charge, and converge on them; his forces will get the Makos, which will cover the charge with an artillery barrage. I'll take my men and assault from the west," he motioned to the west, where there was less open land to charge from, "Our squad will lead the charge in our Mako, racing ahead, and the rest of the troops will follow up behind. We will breach the walls from both sides, squeeze the life out of the enemy, and take back Ohio. By the time the Cerberus fleet returns, we'll be too dug in for them to root out, and they'll have to give up the planet, especially if they think Alliance reinforcements are inbound."

"Well, let's liberate Eden Prime then," Garrus snarkily stated, grinning, "I'll make sure those snipers don't ruin the exhiliration."

When Marcus got back, he conversed with the division commanders, and so the split occured. Victus gave him a nod before yelling for his troops to follow behind him, and a great deal of tension had been released; the exhaustion had caused old rivalries between the groups to rise up, and splitting them had been a good idea; Eclipse marched off behind Victus, taking all eight of their YMIRs, all thirty LOKIs, and two of the FENRIS', while the rest stayed with Marcus' troops. Aria's men followed behind, transported by the three Makos. Once gone, Marcus took the Blood Pack and Blue Suns along with the final Mako, and marched off west. It didn't take them long to get into position, and they all formed a standard battle line; it reminded him of the American Civil War, of lines of men with muskets firing at each other; but this would be a charge, not standard engagement. But he still felt like a general, all the same.

Zaeed approached him just before the charge, stopping him before he entered the Mako. Garrus had informed him that all the snipers were eliminated, and Cerberus was none the wiser; he just had to charge. All looked good.

Zaeed sighed, scratching his face, fingernails scratching at one of his many scars, "This is fucking crazy, Shepard," he mused, grinning, "If our men even reach the walls, they'll be in for a fight; Cerberus are disciplined, mercenaries are not. This could fail in so many goddam ways. But with you in command, I think we'll succeed and kill these little bitches."

Marcus only smiled, reaching his hand out and gripping the man's shoulder, "This is the first of many battles, Zaeed. And I won't be around for many of them; these mercenaries need to be ready, and Cerberus is nothing compared to the Reapers."

"I know. But they don't," he leaned in, smirking, "But trust me, they'll learn fucking quick. I'll make sure there's no deserters."

"I'll see you there Zaeed," he replied, nodding and letting go of the man's shoulder, "It'll be just like the Collectors; side by side, guns blazing."

"Don't make me a fucking sentimental," he growled, but this one was full of mirth, "It makes people soft, and I'm a bloody hardass. The biggest, goddam hardass there is. Now go, this charge won't lead itself," and with that, Zaeed was gone, marching off across the field, back towards his men.

He reentered the Mako, taking his place in the driver's seat, with Liara still seated beside him, and James back manning the turret; Keeling, Javik, Kasumi and EDI were all ready to deploy. Just as he turned towards Liara, they all heard a distant explosion, and all eyes turned to see flames erupt and rise into the sky like a geyser from the colony, the sound of gunfire quickly following it. Another explosion, followed by several more, and the whistle of shells flying through the air could be heard, along with the shouts of men dying and shouting orders. The sky erupted in bright orange and black, and it was clear the battle had begun; Victus had initiated his artillery assault, and his men were charging; now to do the same.

He turned to Liara, a weak smile on his face, "You ready?"

She turned towards him, smiling, and her hand landed on his, squeezing it, "Yes."

He winced at the contact, and found himself pulling away suddenly, looking at her incredulously, "What did you do that for?"

"I..." she responded, shocked by his reaction, "I just did it as reassurance, Shepard."

_Damn it, calm yourself, Marcus; she meant nothing by it. She knows you're married, and she wouldn't try and step in and take advantage of...her...absence. Just...ignore those impulses and focus on the mission. _He smiled, nodding, "Its okay, I just..." shaking his head, he turned forward, thumbing the controls, "Its nothing. Let's do this. Keeling, contact Zaeed and Kreete, tell them to march forward, on the double-quick, but _remain behind the damn Mako. _We'll draw their fire," with his orders issued, he waited until Keeling finished relaying them, informed him of their compliance, and then thumbed the acellerator down lightly, moving the Mako forwardly slowly, and then steadily faster. Soon, it burst from the trees, and out into the open, moving toward Ohio. Soon, the Blood Pack followed, and then the Blue Suns. They did not shout; this pincer movement needed to be silent; it needed to be a last-minute shock tactic.

James, lining up the turret, took aim at a nearby building and awaited the go to fire; Marcus merely nodded, and felt the vehicle to thrum as the weapon barked, explosive 155mm shell shooting forward and slamming into the building, exploding with the impact and sending debris flying everywhere. Marcus turned to look at the Mako's rear camera, and saw the Blood Pack steadily advancing up behind them, krogan up front and growling while the vorcha hid in safety behind them; and behind them, was a wall of blue and white, Zaeed snarling orders at them.

They closed the distance pretty quickly, and the Mako rolled over the walls. Two of the unknown bogies with the katanas were just finishing the decapitation of an Eclipse salarian, when they turned to see the shadow of a large vehicle descending on them, before its immense weight crashed down on them, crushing them under it as it continued forward, James switching to the machine gun as he covered their advance.

There was a roar, followed by an assault trooper sent flying into a wall as a krogan plowed forward, reloading his claymore and leading a squad of vorcha with flamethrowers inside, tongues of flame licking at any Cerberus troopers dumb enough to get too close. The Blood Pack forces quickly flowed through, hordes of vorcha and krogan crashing through the Cerberus lines and quickly pushing them back. The Blue Suns pulled in afterwards, assault rifles barking and providing support for the advancing Blood Pack. A turian merc moved forward, tech armor active, but quickly had his head reduced to a fine blue mist from a lucky shot by a guardian, who quickly found his shield yanked away by a krogan, the Blood Pack merc quickly beating him to death with his own shield.

"Fall back! Move back to the hall!" one Cerberus soldier ordered, and Marcus drove the Mako towards that area to cut off their retreat. Victus' artillery had stopped, firing and now Eclipse YMIRs were locked in an epic battle with a Atlas mech; the latter was winning.

As he turned the corner, they found that two YMIRs were destroyed and reduced to molten wreckage, while another had begun tearing into the Atlas with its heavy machine gun. The high-velocity rounds pounded against the mech's heavy armor, but might as well have meant nothing as it dented off, serving only to scar the paint. The third YMIR raised its rocket arm and fired, but the blast was absorbed by the Atlas' shields as it merely raised its own arm, firing a rocket that reduced the YMIR to molten slag, spreading its wreckage out in a shotgun shell affect.

"James, get that Atlas' attention!" Marcus shouted, before driving out from around the corner, bringing them within full view of the Atlas. The pilot must have sensed their presence on their radar, as the mech began to turn around, bringing its weapons to bare; but James was faster. The turret gave a loud, thunderous retort, and the shell pierced the cockpit as the Atlas completed its turn, detonating inside, the back blowing apart and causing the Atlas to be torn asunder from the inside, the ammunition in its arm then detonating as the cascade of explosions reduced the Atlas to nothing.

Satisfied that their armoured support was gone, James switched back to the HMG, aimed at the Cerberus troops out in the open, trying to advance, and systematically gunned them down. Marcus was backing up the vehicle, shots pinged off the shields, as Palisus' voice came through his ear.

"Any units, we need immediate support! Cerberus pressing our flank!" the turian cried out in sudden terror, "We can't hold them, and our line is collapsing! We need support!"

He nodded, turning towards the back, "Keeling, you've got EDI and Javik! Get out there, find some men, and lift the pressure off of Palisus' flank! Go!" Before he was even finished, Keeling had unholstered her weapon, opening the hatch and rushing outside, EDI quickly following behind. Javik did not move, merely glaring at Marcus.

"I will not be working with a machine!" he growled, "They are untrustworthy! It would stab me in the back at its first chance!"

"_She _can be trusted! She saved my life more times than you can imagine! But I'm not arguing the semantics with you now!" he growled, "Now go, Javik!"

The prothean simply nodded, unholstering his particle rifle as he leapt out the hatch, giving him a single glance that said they'd discuss this later. Shaking his head, he heard the hatch close as he drove forward and acellerated towards the hall, where Victus' forces were clamping down their hold on the retreating Cerberus forces.

After surprising a few guardians by running over them, the machine gun began coughing, rounds chewing up the Cerberus troops as Victus' Eclipse and Aria's forces attempted to push forward and encircle them.

He moved the Mako through what looked to be a crowd of dead bodies; a mix of Cerberus, and of their own forces. Dozens lay dead, but still they kept pushing. Victus lead from the back, he could see; the man standing and sniping his enemy, while grabbing any attempted deserters and throwing them back into the fray, telling them to keep fighting.

The fight was going well, as James considered his support from the turret, and one of the three of Victus' Makos rounded the corner.

Then it all went to shit when the Mako rounding the corner erupted into a great fireball, flames roaring upward as the vehicle was consumed and torn apart from the blast, reducing the vehicle to smoldering wreckage. The other two Makos backed up, and then Marcus saw them; two Atlases rounding the corner, both arms drawn. He watched as one brought up its foot and stomped down, crushing two Eclipse engineers, before using its hand to swat aside three krogan attempting to climb onto it, sending them flying. LOKI mechs fired at it, but its heavy machine guns tore them apart seemlessly, and the other Atlas only continued to advance behind it, its own cannon wreaking destruction along the mercenary line. Quick victory was quickly turning into quick disaster.

What happened next however, took him by surprise. He heard a shout of anger, followed by a roar of fury as the biotically-colored form of Aria leapt out from the clashing armies and came to land on the cockpit of the first Atlas, using her biotically clenched fist to smash open the cockpit, grab the pilot and throw him out into her army's midst, where Bray quickly put a shotgun shell in his chest.

With the Atlas in her grasp, Aria climbed into the cockpit, turned the Atlas around, and brought its rockets to bare. Before the second Atlas realized it, a rocket streamed from her cannon and hit the mech's leg joint, crippling and blowing it clean off its support, causing the Atlas to topple to one side, unable to get back up. Advancing up to it, she then, with a maniacal laugh, brought up her mech's foot, and brought it back down on the enemy Atlas, crushing the Atlas, and killing the pilot. With all Atlases eliminated, and the last one in their grasp, Cerberus now had no armoured support; the fight was now fully in their favor.

"Petrovsky, I hope you're fucking watching!" Aria cried out, and turned around, stomping down on a guardian before swatting aside a group of assault troopers. With her mercenary army at her back, she raised her right arm, enabled the cannon, and began a steady beat of shots, tearing into the Cerberus line, which was now being held by a long line of guardians, backed by dragoons who launched biotic attacks at the encroaching mercenary forces, but the asari of the Eclipse battered away their attacks with their own biotic barriers.

"Aria, Aria," he mused, shaking his head as he smiled, "You actually saved the day," as he watched their forces advance, Aria's Atlas coming to meet the guardian line head on, Keeling commed him. He nodded to Liara, and opened the comm link as the two Makos started rounding the corner again, carefully going around the wreckage of the destroyed vehicle.

"Palisus is pushing forward again," the N7 informed him, "We're converging on the hall. Massani says he hopes you haven't taken all the kills."

He chuckled, "Tell him that Aria did that already, and that he'd better hurry up or be left behind."

"Roger copy," Keeling replied, "We'll be there soon, Keeling out."

The rest of the assault went rather well; the Cerberus battalion was simply being decimated. They did not have the air support Marcus was convinced they would have, and with their three Atlases gone, and their snipers disposed of, the battle easily turned in their favor. Cerberus didn't give up meekly though, and for every assault trooper they killed, they took out three mercs. It was a bloodbath, suffice to say, and Marcus could only take note of the piles of bodies, both Cerberus and merc, piling up on the grassy plains. He hoped taking Eden Prime was worth this cost.

Keeling, EDI and Javik eventually caught up and flanked the Mako, followed not long after by the Blood Pack and Blue Suns taking the rearguard, Palisus complaining that the Eclipse were taking all the glory, but Zaeed managed to shut him up, feeling especially good after having sniped four centurions in a row. Aria had been causing a path of destruction with her newly acquired Atlas, but even the hulking death machine had a limit to the amount of punishment it could suffer, and eventually the asari had to abandon it as a centurion with a rocket launcher blew off one of her mech's legs, forcing him to leap out of it as it toppled to the ground, immobilized. Unfortunately for the centurion, his victory was short-lived, as Aria quickly yanked the rocket launcher from his grip, and tore him apart with a biotic reave before using the missile launcher to kill a few dragoons. And by that time, the Cerberus retreat had become a last bastion; like in New Hope, they fought to the last man.

When Marcus emerged from the smoke, he was greeted by a gruesome sight. During the assault, they had lost a full quarter of their force; a thousand men just dead. Despite having the element of surprise, these mercs were still just that; mercenaries with no military training. Cerberus however, were augmented supersoldiers; they were stronger, faster and, due to their huskification, basically had no emotion, meaning that they felt no fear, and fought to the last man. They were relentless in taking a position, and unrelenting in holding one. So while they had eventually destroyed the Cerberus forces, Cerberus themselves had landed a heavy toll on them as well. They had lost a Mako, 70 percent of their YMIR mechs, all of their LOKI mechs, and 97 percent of their FENRIS mechs. Keeling had been hit by a piece of rubble, and it grazed her hip, meaning her hip was swollen to the point of agony; but being the special forces badass that she was, she basically waved off his concerns and said she'd 'walk it off.' Javik had drawn up a very high Cerberus kill count, while EDI's performance had been flawless; Cerberus had very rarely landed a hit on her.

Most of the casualties belonged to the Blood Pack vorcha, who had charged Cerberus like rabid varren, had the tactical expertise of a moron, and had armor so thin that it could be cut with a butter knife; the krogan only amounted to a small 0.255 percent of the kills in the entire battle, which wasn't much. Next on the kills list was the Eclipse; largely salarians, due to their weak armor and lack of ability to stand up in sustained combat, while the smaller percentage had been asari and humans. The rest belonged to the Blue Suns, who had lost alot of men, close to two hundred, but hadn't lost as much as the others, so that was an added bargain. And Aria had barely lost any men at all; Victus, to his relief, had gotten out of the battle with barely a scratch on him. Still, Cerberus had enacted a terrible toll, and they had paid it; one thousand mercenaries lay dead, and this was only the first of many major battles.

But they had done it; Eden Prime had been liberated. The Cerberus battalion in Colony Ohio had held to the last man, as he knew they would, and were totally annihilated; Ohio became theirs. And by the time the Cerberus fleet above finally responded to the distress call coming from the colony, they found it had fallen to a united mercenary force; that must have been really surprising. And if Nakamura's tale told true, they had landed one kill on the Cerberus fleet, and managed to damage two more; but their dreadnought and carrier remained intact. In the end, the enemy fleet had seen that the battle was lost, and they could not hope to retake Eden Prime, and had made best speed for the relay. When the mercenaries had been informed, they had cheered.

Much to his disappointment however, Kreete had been killed during the battle; they had found his decapitated remains beside the body of one of the dead soldiers with a katana, who had been killed by a krogan. After accessing what Cerberus files they could in the base, they had found the names for every trooper variant in the Cerberus Army, and found they were called Phantoms; stealth operatives that used tactical cloak to sneak up on their enemy and assassinate them quickly and effieciently; assassins of the highest order. And the leader of the Phantoms, was Kai Leng. He had gritted his teeth at that. _The bastard who killed Byp, Shala'Raan's husband. So this asshole is a stealth operative? And he's still alive? Good. I'd hate for him to die before I kill him myself._

Kreete's death hadn't hurt Aria that much; she had merely replaced him with another vorcha puppet leader; Gryll. The vorcha was just as dumb as Kreete, although Marcus believed he looked to be slightly smarter, but he guessed stupidity was inherent in vorcha culture; something Javik seemed intent on pointing out. Sayn had survived the battle, as had Zaeed, unsurprisingly, so the Blue Suns and Eclipse leaders remained unharmed; that was good. It meant they still had secure leaders in their organizations, and men like Zaeed and Sayn were loyal; out of moral capacity, not out of stupidity like Kreete, or the new case, Gryll.

With a sigh, he stepped down from the rubble ornamenting the top of the building, and jumped down, narrowly missing a piece of blackened hull wreckage that had originally been part of a Mako. Zaeed, merely out of friendship, had decided to give Marcus one of his Makos, largely because the current Normandy was lacking a tank of any capacity, so filling it was good; even if he had preferred the Hammerhead; if not for its armor, then for its superior weaponry. _I wonder if Cerberus has thought of building more Hammerhead tanks like the one they gave me? Those things packed one hell of a nasty punch._

"I knew you were loco," James' voice stated from his side, and he stood up fully to face the marine, who was still clad in his alliance combat armor, "But jumping into a pile of rubble? Come on loco, calm down."

"Just shut your mouth, Vega," he replied, but the marine saw the grin on his face and he merely grinned back as Marcus continued, approaching him, "You contacted the Normandy?"

James nodded, dropping his smile, "Yeah; he's told _Esteban_, and the man's taking the shuttle down to pick us up; I just hope that shuttle has heavy lift gear for our new Mako."

"_'Esteban_?'" Marcus quiered, but as he hit his epiphany, he raised his hand, forestalling any further comment by the marine, "Oh wait, its a nickname for Cortez, isn't it?"

"I give nicknames to those who fit them. You're completely loco, Garrus has scars on his face, and Liara does have blue skin," he shrugged, "I thought I'd call Cortez _Esteban_."

"My translators might be playing up," Marcus began, frowning, "But according to it, _Esteban_ is spanish for 'Stephen,' which is just a variant of the name Steven. So I'll I can ask is; you're nickname for Cortez is just his first name in Spanish?" he cracked a smirk at James' lack of creativity.

"Hey, I did say they fit their nicknames," he laughed awkwardly, shaking his head, "But I don't see why this is important."

"It isn't, just wanted to clarify," Marcus' grin stayed, despite himself, but he quickly brushed it off when he looked back over the wreckage, "So much death...destruction. And to think this is what the rest of the war has in store for us," he turned back to Vega, sighing, "Think we can win this?"

The man's features were determined, and he nodded, "We're going to kick Cerberus' ass, and then we'll build this weapon, and destroy the Reapers. You can count on us winning. The American War of Independence looked grim at first, but the Americans won in the end; because of strength, courage and all their allies."

"Didn't know you were an historian. Or a speech maker. I should look to you for consultation," he laughed, shaking his head as he turned back, "No, you're right Vega. This battle today...it was the first victory we've had against the Reapers, against Cerberus, as the United Galactic Confederacy."

"I think its our first major victory, period," James replied, joking, "Mars not withstanding."

"True," he replied in earnest, turning back to the marine, as he placed a hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing with a tight grip, "This war is going to need alot of soldiers like you, Vega. You've got spirit. I remember what you said to me as we were leaving Earth; you were hurting, you wanted to stay and fight. That kind of valour and determination is something we're going to need from every soldier, regardless of species."

"You were right, loco," James responded, nodding grimly as he took off his helmet, swiping off the dust that had coated on it, staining its vibrant color, "Leaving Earth was the right thing to do; I was in the wrong. Leaving my home...it just pissed me off. Filled me with rage, pain...my uncle lives in Mexico, and my old man lived in New York, last I remember. Think I had an aunt in Perth, too. To think that the Reapers were likely harvesting them, while I was on a frigate pissing off to fight the war somewhere else? Hell loco, its been days now since we left. Feels like years, but its only been...what? Four days? Four days since this war began. In that time, my aunt and uncle could be a husk, and my dad could be dead. And I'm on Eden Prime, fighting Cerberus goons, far, far away. How did that make me feel? I hated you; but then I realized that this war is more than personal; its galaxy-wide. I was being selfish, completely ignoring that an entire galaxy was suffering, while I was bitching and moaning about leaving one planet. No, I was being a fool; this war isn't about me, or you, its about the bigger picture; and if I have to sacrifice myself to save it, then so be it. You were right loco, and I'm behind you, one hundred percent."

He simply nodded, smiling meekly, "I'm glad you came to realize that, Vega. I need you, and so does everyone. You're a better fighter when you're focused," as he finished, he knew he didn't really share Vega's beliefs of sacrifice. _I'm glad you're ready to sacrifice yourself, Vega. I want to believe I am, but then all I have to do is mention the very word, mentally or verbally, and there pops Tali, ready to take me on a guilt trip. How __**could **__I sacrifice myself, knowing that I'd possibly hurt her in ways I couldn't imagine? He remembered her saying that he died once, and she was a wreck. If he died again, she said she wouldn't survive this time; she'd just collapse. And I don't even want to know exactly what she meant by that. _But despite his selfish want, he knew the needs of the galaxy came first, and in the end, knew he'd have to choose. _Do I sacrifice myself to save trillions, or live to be with the one that matters most to me? _

He shook his head of those thoughts, and made his way to the extraction site. Right now, here, they had won a great victory; Eden Prime was back in Alliance hands, and Cerberus had lost its potential foothold in the region; and they had stopped them from acquiring the last prothean in existence, who happened to be a soldier. It had been the first of potentially many victories for the UGC, and in the end, Marcus couldn't be happier for that. And now, on the horizon, was a war summit that would decide the future of the Volus Protectorate, Salarian Union, Turian Hierarchy, Asari Republics and now the krogan people, for the course of the war, and whether they would join the united forces of the UGC or not. For the prothean superweapon wasn't going to build itself.

And yet a prothean had risen, awake and alive, ready to fight the Reapers and show them the protheans weren't done yet. He was their voice, and it was angry.

He had risen...from ashes.

**"Javik was a very intense character, I'll admit. And I don't think I saw the Liberation of Eden Prime on the news."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It was a great victory for us; it showed Cerberus could be beaten, although people didn't care; they were looking for victories against the Reapers, for which they wouldn't find any; Cerberus had our technological capability, but the Reapers? Way beyond our league."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"So when did this War Summit occur?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"It officially took place on June 8th in orbit over Mannovai, in the Salarian Union owned system of Mevaro, Annos Basin Cluster."**

**"Two days after the Liberation of Eden Prime? Guess it took some time to form up."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"It certainly did, and during that time, I learnt alot about the crew. More than I thought I would."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"And, of course, you deeply missed me."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch.**

**"Enough that it hurt to think about it."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**Long chapter? Yeah, that was the intention; but I hope this was epic enough for you. That officially closes the From Ashes segment, and I hope it was a nice taste of what's going to happen; there will be more full-scale battles, and they'll get bigger as Marcus gathers more of the races to join him (Which is why I can't wait for the quarian-geth conflict arc of this story. That'll be epic). So yeah.**_

_**War Summit is up soon, but that won't be until Chapter 12; Chapter 11 is up next, with some dialogue; I'm definitely going to be having Shepard talk more with Samantha and Cortez, to satisfy the fans of those characters, along with some James, and some Keeling, for those interested in her character (please tell me in your review of this what you think of her. Is she a satisfying OC? What could I do to extend her personality? Give me some ideas; they're appreciated). There'll also be more 'meanwhile, on the front' segments, along with the first of many Anderson POVs on Earth. Along with a POV on Tuchanka that I won't give away; it isn't Wrex or Grunt. So you guys can interpret that. I look forward to your guessing; trust me, you'll never find the right answer! And those who do belong in an insane asylum; nothing short of a psychic could discover what I'm talking about.**_

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers! **_

_**On a side note: Any of those of you paying attention to the news? Seems like the Coalition is building back up just to deal with ISIS; shit's getting real.**_


	13. Chapter 11 Pressure

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN:**

**PRESSURE**

_June 6, 2186_

_2153 hours._

_Port Observation, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with the Citadel._

_The Reaper War._

_Military Advisor Garrus Vakarian._

Garrus Vakarian sat behind the lounge in the Port Observation room, legs tucked neatly before him and a bottle of turian brandy ontop of the bench before him, one of the turian's three-fingered hands lazily swirling the dark liquid around in a glass as he looked into its inner depths, deep in his own realms of thought.

The Normandy was currently docked with the Citadel, refueling, rearming and resupplying, while Shepard also went to attend a meeting with Hackett and Udina over the future of the Systems Alliance, and whether it should join the UGC or not. The Normandy had spearheaded the return of the mercenary ships, until they broke off; after a final goodbye, Zaeed took Palisus and the rest of his troops and returned to Zorya; the merc had heard reports of Reaper forces probing the Ismar Frontier, and wanted to evacuate the planet and relocate his headquarters. Sayn took his Eclipse and remained on the Citadel, while Gryll took the Blood Pack to the vorcha homeworld...under Aria's command. The asari herself had returned to Purgatory, although reluctantly. Garrus laughed inwardly at that; take Afterlife away from the great Aria T'Loak, and she founders. _Should have considered blowing up the place when I was still Archangel..._

He sighed happily, taking another sip of his drink, which was the third he had. He wasn't planning on getting drunk, just enough to wash away the memories of watching Eclipse mercs get blown apart, Blood Pack vorcha get chewed by bullets, and Blue Suns get eviscerated by phantoms. The Battle for Colony Ohio on Eden Prime had been some of the bloodiest fighting he had seen, with the exception of Menae, and it shook him down to the core. He knew war was brutal, and deep down, he knew he had seen worse, but to see it again and again? It wasn't something you got used to; not even soldiers. You'd have to be ice-cold.

Garrus was not ice-cold. But his drink was.

He grunted as he leaned forward over the bench, moving to fill his glass again, which he had just discovered was now absent of his brandy. He was flicking the cap when he heard a voice right next to him, one that almost caused him to jump...if it hadn't been for him being used to it by now.

"Alochol is bad for you, you know," she stated, materializing on the stool on his left, grinning wickedly behind her hood.

"Only in large amounts," Garrus reasoned. He continued despite the thief's observations, and when he was done, the glass was once again half full, sitting before him in a dark swirl. He heard a sigh from her corner, followed by what he saw was an eye roll.

"Hey, only I'm allowed to try ad spout nonsense," Kasumi quipped, shaking her head, "You should know better, Vakarian."

"Trust me, I do know better. Secretly. Not so secretly," the turian retorted, a pathetic grin splitting his face, "Eh, who cares. Its my business what I drink, not yours. Why are you even here?"

"Um...I sleep here?" Kasumi replied, giggling, "Remember, the Lounge is my domain."

"On the old Normandy," he replied.

"This still is that Normandy," she replied, "Just with Alliance colors." She saw the look he gave her, and she sighed, holding her hands up in defeat, "Okay, they've changed it alot; but hey, inside looks aren't everything, you know! The Lounge is still here, so its still my room! I think I have a right to know why you're hogging all the dextro alcohol."

He nodded, conceding to her point, "Well, I couldn't let you control all the booze, now could I? You've got so much. I thought I'd...lessen the pressure," he smirked, before taking another sip of his drink, "Damn. No idea why I drink this; what did Zaeed call it? That's right! He said it tastes like _piss_," he lapped his tongue out, demonstrating his distaste, "And yet I keep drinking it."

"Yes, you're repulsive. Don't think I feel sorry for you," she replied, shaking her head with mirth, "Because I don't. You brought this on yourself, Vakarian."

"Noted," was his simple retort, and with a smile he went to take a another sip of his drink, before Kasumi roughly took it from his hands and tipped it back into the bottle, before fastening the cap over it. It took his befuddled, woozy mind to comprehend what she was doing, and finally he spoke, "Hey! What are you doing?"

"Cutting you off, dino," she replied, taking the bottle back around the counter and putting it away, "You know how Shep dislikes drunkards, and especially on his ship."

"He..." the turian hiccuped, waggling a finger a-matter-of-factly, ""He...is a hypocrite! I...can drink...what I want!"

"You tipsy imbecile," the thief retorted, leaning over the counter with a raised eyebrow, "He's never gotten drunk...ever. And just because you're on 'big brother' terms with him, doesn't mean you get a free pass on getting drunk. He'll still kick your butt."

"Ass," he corrected, "You can say ass, you know."

"Nah. I leave bad words to you tough guys. And Jack," she grinned, shaking her head, "Besides, among my people, its bad to use insults casually; it brings create disrespect to our family. I'd be a terrible Goto if I broke that rule now."

"The Japanese sound very humble. How very turian," he grunted, sighing, "Fine. You have my attention, _Goto. _What do you...want?"

"Oh, I have a motivation now? How very...thiefist? No, no that sounded very bad. Not going to say that one again," he heard the distaste in her voice, and he smiled, although for some reason that was the same for every time she spoke, especially with _him_, "But uh...why would I need a motivation?"

"You always do," he stated simply, and she nodded, conceding to his point.

"Was just worried about ya, is all," she replied, eyes taking on an inquisitive shape, "You are okay, right? You don't look well."

"I'm fine," the turian grunted, eyes narrowing as he looked back down at the tabletop. _So that's how it's going to be, is it? A fucking psych check? _

"No you're not," she firmly stated, her own eyes narrowing, "Don't give me that tough guy stuff, because it won't work on me; or any woman with any intellect. I may not have a shotgun to threaten you with like Tali does, but I can threaten to throw your precious sniper rifle out an airlock."

He turned to her incredulously, "You wouldn't."

Her eyes gleamed, "I would. Especially if I found your mandibles not moving and words coming out, words along the lines of an explanation of why you seem to look so gloomy. You haven't left this room since we got back to the ship."

He merely glared at her, clearly showing no intent on telling her, but knowing that if he didn't, she would carry out her threat. With an exhale of breath, he leaned back, letting his glass sit on the countertop, "Fine. You want to know what's bothering me? This war. Everything to do with it. That's what."

"You think you're the only one?" Kasumi replied, coming around to take a seat next to him, sighing as she sank into it, "Everyone's bothered by this war. _I'm _bothered by this war. Shep's bothered by this war, even if he won't admit it."

"It's just..." he stopped himself, before continuing, trying to cling to any words that could assemble a sentence of explanation, "I watched my homeworld burn, Kasumi. I effectively let my family behind to die; do you have any idea what that's like? Knowing your family, your parents, your sister, were trapped on your homeworld, knowing they were alive, and just leaving them and running off? It hurts. Spirits, I don't even know if they're still alive or not. They could dead. I wouldn't know. The Reapers have jammed all outbound communications. I was fighting on a moon, only to be picked up and flown off to fight the war somewhere else, while my family likely perished."

"Don't be like that," Kasumi replied sternly, her cheery exterior gone, "Your family _is not _dead. You said it yourself; you know they're alive. Maybe they escaped, and you just don't know. Don't jump to conclusions. And running off was the right thing; what we're doing will save everyone."

"That's if this weapon is even reliable. If it even works. If its not some elaborate trap," he justified, shaking his head, "I've put all my faith in Shepard, and I have to believe he'll get it done, with our help. But if this weapon really does prove to be a ruse? What then? Just what hope do we have? You haven't seen the Reapers in action Kasumi; you haven't been on or seen a planet they are razing; its total destruction, and you can't even stop them; it took the combined fire of _five _fleets just to land a few kills. And we're hoping every fleet in the galaxy will stop hundreds of thousands of them," he sighed, "The odds aren't in our favor. They never have been."

"But that's what Shep does best," Kasumi quipped, "Beating the odds. Achieving the impossible. Garrus, he came back from the _dead_."

"Yeah," the turian rumbled, chuckling slightly, "He does have a habit of doing that," his laugh became genuine, "And he did lead a team into the Collector Base with no casualties. That's quite a mean feat."

"So why don't you think we can win this?" Kasumi quiered.

The mirth was gone from his eyes in a moment as he turned to face her, "Because I think even the man who beats all the odds has an anchor. That anchor isn't here, and he's falling apart. You should see him when he's alone, Kasumi. I've asked EDI. He just looks through messages on his terminal, galactic news, and most of it is status reports on Earth. He hasn't talked to his mother, and most of his outbound communications are to Hackett or other military or political figures. And when he's not doing any of that...he drinks. Heavily."

"Are you telling me he gets drunk?" Kasumi said, flabbergasted, "He gets a hangover?"

"No. His new body makes him incapable of that," Garrus informed her, "His cybernetics filter out all the alcohol and effectively destroy it. Its impossible for him to get drunk, no matter how much he drinks. I think he knows that, but he tries anyway. I guess he just wants to forget all the stuff he's seen. The death. The destruction. But most of all, I think he just craves to have that anchor, his rock, near him."

"'His rock?'" she questioned, "Are we talking about...?"

"You know damn well who I'm talking about. He's lost without her," he leaned forward, towering over his drink, glancing into its alcoholic depths, "The man's a wreck, and there's not a damn thing any of us can do about it; he has to figure this out for himself. We either find Tali soon, or he's just going to become a robot. A soldier with no emotions. A machine, in all but name."

"You really think it'll get that bad?" she asked, worried, "He'll just cut himself off?"

"Considering the things we've seen..." he trailed off, finally picking up his glass and just holding it, "I think being a machine would be just fine. Just to be desensitized to it all...to not feel anything, to not feel all the horrors of it all...the nightmares it induces...it sounds like my idea of heaven. How could I blame him?" he took a sip and gulped, sighing, "But once you become a machine, it means you cease being what you were. All your morals just die; only logic remains. And that's what scares me. That the Shepard we both know will just cease to exist and become a...a perversion of what we knew."

He turned towards her, meeting her eyes, mandibles twitching, "That man once taught me that justice and revenge need to be two seperate things for an officer; for one is truth, and the other is personal truth. That's what corrupts people, he said. He taught me that after I almost shot Tali to kill a criminal we were chasing who was holding her hostage," he shook away the sadness of the day, "I wasn't proud of that, and he kicked my ass for it, but I learnt in the end; I became a better man. But what if that man were to just die, moralistically, if not physically? What if one day...he just killed without a thought, showed no mercy, maimed and destroyed...Kasumi, what if that machine one day met his wife again?"

Kasumi gulped, not liking the implications, "Tali would change him back."

"That's pretty optimistic," Garrus countered.

"Optimism's all we have left in this," Kasumi retorted, "If we give up on hope, what's the point on fighting? We might as well give ourselves up and be harvested. And I don't know about you, but I'm not about to surrender to Harbinger. He's very scary...and a bit condescending."

That caused Garrus to smile lightly, "True. Harbinger is a bit of a prick. But so is the Illusive Man," his smile died, and he shook his head, "I just hope we find Tali soon...and quickly, before it all goes to shit."

"You'll get no arguments from me," she spun to face the counter, smiling, "Mind if I join you? I could use a drink myself. Clear my thoughts."

He nodded, "I'd...I'd like that."

And so they both drank in silence, both hoping for a brighter future.

It was a desperate hope.

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1239 hours._

_Admiral's Quarters, Wyoming-Class Destroyer QMFV Machina, Migrant Fleet, Sea of Storms System, Phoenix Massing Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Admiral Tali'Shepard vas Machina._

The room was deadly silent, save for the gentle hum of the former human destroyer's pulsing engines rumbling through the ship, and the numerous quarians moving about outside her quarters. Her ship was heavily staffed, and not lacking in a marine continegent, so it meant her ship was just as noisy as all the others on the Fleet.

Unlike most Migrant Fleet ships however, the Machina and much more going for it in terms of space. While still considerably small, it was bigger than what most ship captains got, let alone an Admiral, and had enough room for her to walk in circles. Her clan colors, purple for Clan Zorah, were draped along the walls, although now obsolete and just a relic, because she was no longer a Zorah, and was successfully married into Clan Shepard, or whatever humans called their clan system. It had a single door ahead of her as an entrance, a basic sleeping mat on the left, and a large desk at the end, with an observation window behind her allowing a view of the void that made up the universe around them. Aside from that, it was a rather dull room, and nothing of note.

Sitting on that desk was a basic terminal, a few scattered tools, a prototype omni-tool, a few arc grenades, and a collapsed form of her combat drone, Chiktika vas Paus. The terminal was open, and numerous tabs were opened, some pertaining to news on the Reaper War, others on weapons and omni-tool selections. One particular tab, one she had open for ages, was a tab with the search ponder 'Marcus Shepard,' which she had open constantly for updates. And sitting behind that desk, lamp shining over her in the darkened room, was Tali'Shepard, Crew of Machina, Ex-Crew of Normandy, Ex-Crew of Neema, Child of Rayya, combat engineer, captain and Chief Admiral of the Admiralty Board; the Migrant Fleet's military order and command structure; equivalent of the turian and asar High Command.

Tali was multitasking, at concurrent. While one three-fingered, gloved hand glided over her terminal keypad, typing in commands and messages, the other held a small child, a human-quarian hybrid, tiny three-fingered hands grasping at his mother's suit covering, little mouth latched around her left breast, which she had exposed temporarily to feed her child; most normal mothers went to a clean room for breastfeeding, but Tali was simply too busy for that. _Is this what father was like? Too busy to look after his own child? Keelah, I'm beginning to understand his position. Still, he could have at least told me 'I love you' every once and a while; he only got around to that when he was __**dying.**_

Her child was a marvaleous piece of creation, and she was proud to be his mother. As previously stated, he was a human-quarian hybrid; a byproduct of a cross-species reproduction serum created by Professor Mordin Solus, a close friend of hers, to give Marcus and herself a chance at having children, something robbed of them by their differing biological structures and species. The serum had worked, just as Mordin said it would, and Tali had gotten pregnant with the first ever hybrid child recorded in history.

And like you'd expect from a hybrid, he (yes, the child turned out to be a boy), had features from both species. Physically, the boy was quarian; he had three-fingered hands and three-toed feet, the arched back, arched legs, eyes, ears (which Marcus had called 'elf ears,' although she never understood why) and hair of a quarian male. At first, Tali thought he'd have nothing from his father's side, but then Elan ran a scan.

Inside, Junior was human; and what was the best part, was that counted for the immune system was well; his immune system meant he did not need a suit or a bubble. He had the heart, two lungs, kidneys, genitalia, etc of a human male, which was truly remarkable. Tali had smiled at this revelation, and cried in celebration that her child would never know the horrors of the prison that was quarian enviro-suits.

And yes, his name was Junior; according to quarian custom, and she assumed this was universal across all species, both parents came up with a name for the child, and when in agreement, passed it down. But since the father was off and likely light years away, that only left the mother and being devoted to quarian beliefs, she decided to wait until the father was present to name their child; so for now, his name was Junior.

Suddenly, broken from her stupor, she heard the sucking noises stop, and sighed as she knew what came next, and come it did; Junior began wailing. This process had occurred almost repeititively, but Tali knew how to solve it; she would rock him back and forth, whispering soft, khelish reassurances to him before he would then fall asleep. When he woke up, which was usually half a minute later, he would go back to sucking happily, and the process would repeat later on. She did this, and, right on the ball, he woke up and began sucking again, and she returned to work.

Keelah, nursing a child like this was hard, but it wasn't nearly as hard as-

The memories washed back almost immediately.

_"Admir-Tali, you need to push!" Elan ordered, desperately trying to be heard over the quarian's screaming, "You're almost there! You just need to-"_

_"Elan, let me handle this," Shala ordered, and gently shoved the doctor out of the way, taking hold of Tali's hand, "Tali, its Auntie Raan. Look, you can't give up now. You need to keep pushing."_

_"I...I...c-c-can-can't...DO IT!" At the last two words, the baby was kicking again, and Tali let out another shriek of agony, but kept her legs parted on the bed, Elan on the other side with two other doctors, waiting for the baby to appear._

_"Yes you can child," Shala growled, "We will not let this child die, or you, because you chose to give up."_

_"M-M-Ma-Marcus..." she whispered, a tear dropping down her cheek, "I-I need...him..."_

_"Marcus isn't here, I'lessha," Shala cooed, feeling sympathetic for the girl, "He's on Earth, in prison, remember?"_

_"I...I...I need him...please..." she screamed again, and this time Elan held a thumbs up, to let her know the baby was coming out, but Tali's pleas didn't stop, "MARCUS! PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"_

_"He's not-"_

_"Shut up!" Tali silenced, and Shala did exactly that, as the quarian continued to scream, "Keelah, it hhhhhhhhhuuuuuuuurrrRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSS!"_

_A loud pop could be heard, followed by a final high-pitched wail from Tali, before she slumped in the bed, legs collapsing, but not before the baby was retrieved and the cord cut. The sounds of a baby crying could be heard, but Tali did not acknowledge it, and Shala could only barely make out her mutterings, "Marcus...Marcus...Marcus..." she choked back a sob, "I __**need**__ you..."_

_"Ma'am?"_

_Tali's sob suddenly ceased, and as she looked up, she saw Junior looking back down at her with squinted eyes, Elan smiling behind her mask sadly at Tali as the quarian mother observed her child's naked, wet body, gently wrapped up in a warm towel. She continued to cry, but suddenly, Tali reached out, taking the child in her arms and resting him against her chest, the child's wailing suddenly stopping, as if the connection between mother and child was complete. Tali half-laughed, stroking her child's bald head with a gloved finger. She choked back another sob, a few more tears streaking down her face, but Shala didn't know if they were of sadness or joy at this point; maybe they were both._

_"Keelah Se'lai," she whispered to him, "Marcus, I wish you could be here...to see this...to see our son..." she sobbed once more, and Shala quickly relieved the child from her arms and turned her away as Tali broke into a fit of weeping, occassionally crying out Marcus' name, along with what sounded to be a name for a child._

She was suddenly returned to the present, and Tali blinked, realizing Junior had fallen asleep in her arms. She also noticed that her cheeks were wet, and she had been crying. Sniffling, she went to wipe her eyes, only for her hands to bump against her visor, and she sighed, picking up Junior and placing him in his cot, before returning to her desk, placing her breast back in the suit and sealing it back up.

Just as she was about to return to work however, she heard a knock on the door, and sighed. And just as she had been moving to select the 'Marcus Shepard' tab, too. _Just one moment alone. That's all I ask. Must my people need my time constantly?_

She called out for the person to enter, and watched as the door shot open, Igra standing outside with her hands lazily hanging at her sides, with what looked to be a impatient looking Kal hefting a crate standing behind her, waiting on Igra's orders. Tali nodded for them to speak, and Igra did so, stepping forward as Kal did, "Well, I have some good news, Admiral."

"Igra, its Tali, for the last time," she replied sternly, meeting the quarian's eyes, "And what may this good news be?"

"Well...Mrs. Shepard," she replied cheekily, ignoring the Admiral's eye roll, "Your new suit has arrived. The combat one you ordered made?"

Tali straightened, interest suddenly peaked and turning off her terminal, "You mean the prototype combat suit?"

"Yes, that one," Igra waved a dismissive hand, pretending to contemplate beforehand, "I can never remember their names. Alot of needless scientific dribble to sugar-coat some badass tech. We honestly should just call it that, 'Badass Tech Suit.' That sounds alot cooler now, doesn't it?"

"Just show me the suit Igra," she ordered, coming to stand infront of the desk, leaning against it, crossing her arms under her breasts, "I am not in the mood today for your games. Get on with it."

She noticed Igra's eyes lower to her breasts for a second before quickly focusing back on her eyes, and nodding, something of a smirk forming behind her mask, "Okay, then Mrs. Grouchy," she turned to Kal, "Put down the crate and open it, but don't touch the suit. You have a wife."

"A fact I'm well aware of," Kal deadpanned, and moved and placed the crate down on the ground, standing up and using his omni-tool to key the lock and open it. With the seal broken, he placed both hands under the seal and forced it open, before stepping back, and standing at attention. Igra, still grinning, swooned over to the crate, reached inside, and pulled out the contents, turning towards Tali to show her what lay inside.

It was a technological masterpiece; armor fit for a marine; but this wasn't just armor, this was a totally new enviro-suit made entirely for sustained combat scenarios. The suit looked like hers in general design and shape, and did have her Zorah colors draped over it like her currrent one, but there was design choices put to it; the suit was now laced with golden belts and armoured sections, along with a long line of black armoured plates lining down the sternum and breasts, and a flexible metal hood; even the mask was made of reinforced glass. The suit now had two boot knife holsters, and even seemed to come with a bandolier belt. It was perfect.

Tali held out her hands, and Igra let her take it, the quarian admiral examining it more closely; it was light to the touch and not very heavy, so it wouldn't limit her in battle. It was flexible but also provided heavy protection, and she could see a state-of-the-art kinetic barrier generator hooked on the side; no doubt some poor pilgrim went to alot of trouble to acquire that. _Hopefully, he or she didn't steal that. _She nodded, looking at Igra, "This is excellent. Very well designed."

"Your battle armor, Admiral Shepard," Igra stated with some smugness, "Courtesy of my uncle. I did tell you he was a great craftsman; mix that with being good at making suits and armor, and you've got the perfect man for making stuff like this," her position then slumped, eyes frowning behind her mask, "But if I may ask, just what are you planning to use this for?"

"When we engage the Reapers in battle. I may be an Admiral, but I am a soldier, first and foremost, and my place is at my husband's side," Tali replied, as if rehearsed as she lay the suit on her desk, turning back to face her XO, "The Reapers are ravaging the galaxy as we speak, Igra, do not think I have not read the news reports. Marcus is no doubt fighting them right now, and I promised him the Migrant Fleet. Our survival depends on it."

"That's a pretty hard promise to keep," Igra noted, "You may be Chief of the Board, but the people still need to vote on it, along with the rest of the Board and the Conclave. You can't just decide to give 50,000 ships and 17 million quarians over to one man to use and command; there will be disagreement. Besides, from what I've heard, old issues seem to be popping up."

"Old issues? As in?" Tali asked, not sure she'd like the answer, as she crossed her arms again. Before Igra could answer, Kal spoke, deciding he'd best spit it out.

"Many of our people seem to believe we should use the Reaper invasion as a distraction. An opportunity," he sighed, looking at her, "I think you know what for. After drifting around for three hundred years, I think there's only one thing our people want more than anything else."

"Rannoch. The home of our ancestors," Tali answered for him, nodding, a grimace covering her face, "And they are insane to think of such things. We need to be dealing with the real threat; the Reapers. We can't waste time and resources invading the Perseus Veil. Besides, the geth are willing to talk! You spoke with Legion, Kal! If our two peoples can achieve peace, we'll not only get Rannoch back, but the geth and our people will be united against the Reapers. Marcus said it himself, 'The one thing the Council should fear the most after the Reapers is a quarian-geth alliance; they'd be close to unstoppable.'"

"I never said I agreed with the consensus opinion, Mrs. Shepard. I spoke to Legion, as did Madi. Keelah, I was there when Shepard first talked to the thing. Ready to shoot it and everything," he waved a hand, "I know we can achieve peace, but not everyone else sees it that way; they see an enemy that exiled them to the stars for three centuries and to a life of torment, misery and solitary confinement. They want ground beneath their feet once more; they want our homeworld back. We've suffered long enough for our mistake, they say."

"Besides," Igra spoke, having already been filled in on the situation. She hadn't liked it to begin with, and had considered accusing her of treason, but once the situation was further explained, she eventually took their side, and elected not to tell the Admiralty or anyone else about it, "I have to agree with them."

"Igra?" Tali asked, flabbergasted, "Why?"

"I understand the Reaper threat. Which is exactly why we need Rannoch back," she justified, "Once we have Rannoch back in our grasp, we'll have a place to hide our civilians. When that's done, we'll be able to deploy the entire flotilla for battle; keelah Tali, we'll be able to retrofit the liveships into dreadnoughts. The entire Migrant Fleet will be free to use, but while our people live on them...any battle with the Reapers might mean our people's complete extinction."

Tali wanted to deny her logic, but she was right. They needed Rannoch; only that world could sustain and nurture the quarian people properly, and it was the only homeworld her people would accept. _Our civilians would be safe, and people like Koris would be far from the battle; unable to influence tactical decisions. Gerrel would be at his best use fighting the Reapers, as would Xen. But what if we acquired Rannoch without invading? The entire geth fleet and army; they would make us unbelievably powerful; and they don't have civilians. All they have to do is give one a gun, and they're a soldier in seconds. Their entire __**species **__would be deployable military force...think of the force we could apply to the Reapers!_

"I see your point, but invading the Perseus Veil would be foolhardy at present. We need to consider...better options," Tali concluded.

"Well...that's where the problem comes in," Igra solemnly declared, and all eyes turned on her, including Kal's, who looked at her in confusion. Tali was easily as confused, frowning at Igra as she spoke, while her XO seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze.

"Igra, what do you mean by that?"

The quarian finally met her eyes, shaking her head, "The Admiralty Board has convened a meeting. Gerrel has requested you appear; its being held on the Qwib Qwib."

"They convened a meeting without my consent? And now Gerrel has the audacity to request my presence?" Tali growled, exhaling, "Fine, I will appear, if only to find out the meaning of this."

"Tali, the problem is, I don't think this is an ordinary meeting," she stated, rubbing her mask, "Gerrel made it sound as if this meeting could decide the fate of the quarian people, he was that punctual with his words."

This peaked Tali's interest and she nodded slowly, "Very well, then I will see what this is about. Igra, prep my shuttle on the Trading Deck. I will be there within ten minutes. I need to have someone look after Junior while I'm gone. And no Igra, it won't be you; you're coming with me."

Igra nodded, snapping a salute, as did Kal, before both hastily left, and Tali slumped into her seat, giving Junior a single glance as she sighed. Tearing her eyes away from the sleeping demon, she looked at her terminal, and at the unsubmitted request for news on Marcus Shepard. _Not now. Maybe later. _She bookmarked the search query, and then closed the tab, standing up and placing her combat suit back in its crate, which she promptly sealed and slid over to the right of her desk, where it stayed hidden until needed. When she was done, she grabbed her phalanx heavy pistol and strapped it to her hip; a habit she had picked up from Marcus. _Everytime we used to go somewhere, thinking no violence would ensue, and it did. Well, this time I'm prepared. Always. _And with a passing glance at her sleeping boy, she turned and left, heading for the med bay, where hopefully the ship's medical officer could look after Junior.

Then she'd have a meeting to attend. And if she hadn't any say in it, it would not lead to the invasion that the Fleet did not need.

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1300 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Patrolling Boltzmann System, Serpent Nebula._

_The Reaper War._

_Second Lieutenant James Vega, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

Both of his arms flexed almost simultaneously as he grunted, the sound leaving his lips as he lifted his entire body mass off the ground and into the air for a second, head raising above the steel bar that had been above him, but was now level with him. After all that, he was back down after a second, and repeating the same movement. James Vega had been repeating this for a period of fifteen minutes, the same mundane action, the same physical exertion that he got from it. He was nowhere close to sweating, but his muscles were growing slightly fatigued from the repeititive action, not that James cared. His uncle had taught him that repeititive actions bred tolerance for repeitition, and if you can tolerate that, then anything can be tolerated.

He had long since finished disassembling and reassembling his Revenant on the weapons bench, deciding he wanted to add a incendiary mod to the barrel, along with an old-style bayonet for when things got nasty; he never really bothered with the now standard issue omni-blade, as he was more into the old style weapons such as knives, bayonets and frag grenades, as they felt more reliable to him then kinetic barriers and omni-blades and remotely-detonated explosives. And he loved the good old-fashioned bayonet.

As he continued his lifts, his eyes caught the recent addition to the ship at the end of the bay; the Mako. James smiled at this as he lifted himself again, getting a better look at the Alliance-built tank. The M35 Mako was the designated successor to the M34 Blacktip and was designed as an IFV (Infantry Fighting Vehicle) was also possessing an anti-armour weapon, unlike the Blacktip, which focused solely on being a mobile artillery piece. The vehicle had smooth, white coating that secretly sported medium armor for taking punishment, and heavy kinetic barriers built into it to deflect any attack. It had a single rotating turret postioned ontop at the bow, which could switch between heavy machine gun and 155mm cannon at the flip of a switch. It was a six-wheeler, and had iron grip, meaning it could practically climb up any surface, being designed as an all-terrain vehicle. Its bow was designed for ramming through walls, and had a passenger compartment inside. While cramped, it was suitable, and could carry an entire squad if necessary. The Mako was nothing short of a beauty, and James loved that they had decided to bring it onboard.

Unfortunately for him, Cortez saw him gazing at it lovingly, and decided to pick a fight with the marine, "Ah, Mr. Vega. I see you are giving our Mako a...appreciative look, over there," as James turned to the pilot, he did not stop lifting, but his face did contort in a frown as he watched the dark-skinned man look at him, having previously been gazing at his broadly-muscled shoulders before tearing his eyes away, and back at his console, a small smile on his face, "Didn't you take you for a Mako fan."

James, despite his exertions on the metal bar he was holding, choked out a laugh, "I've always loved the M35 Mako! Its got heart...you know?"

Cortez snorted, shaking his head as he gave an exhale of breath, "Oh come on!" the man seemed to sigh, stopping what he was doing to fully turn towards and face the man, "The M44 Hammerhead is vastly superior!"

James, this time, could not help his own snort, almost bringing up his fizzy drink he had been drinking earlier. _The Hammerhead? He can't mean that piece of trash, can he? Sure, its got heat-seeking bunker-buster missiles that fire at a rapid rate, but what else does that thing have to offer over the Mako? _"Get with the times, _Esteban._ That thing's armor is made of tissue paper. At the least the Mako can hold up on its own."

"Ha!" Cortez chortled, "I'd hope so! The thing handles like a drunk rhino! No agility whatsoever!"

James shook his head, "More like a bull," he growled, but with no malice or menace to it, "That can climb, _and climb, _for days!"

"Only reason it can do that is because of its stupid, vertically aligned mass effect fields," Cortez stated a-matter-of-factly, like a science geek at a parade show. _Nerd, _"Jump, or stick. No speed. No lateral movement. Just...forward, back or up."

"Hey, with a cannon and armor like that, who needs to move?" James countered.

"Hey, if you want that, why don't you just stick with the old M29 Grizzly?" Cortez offered, seeing if he'd take the bait, and he did.

"Hey!" he stated, before shrinking back and pouting slightly, "I love that tank."

Cortez grinned, and James didn't like what it contained, "Ha! You would be the one to like grizzly bears, Mr. Vega."

Like a dolt, he took the bait, "Hell yeah!" When Cortez started laughing himself to death, he could only frown, dropping down from the bar above him, cracking his neck as he looked over at the pilot, who could not hold himself from his laughter, "What? What the hell is so funny?"

Cortez didn't elaborate, merely getting his laughter under control as he returned to work, looking back at his console, typing into it rapidly. James shook his head, turning to return to his bench when his eyes landed on a crouched form sitting against one of the support struts in the bay. Deciding he had nothing else better to do, he wondered if he should strike up conversation, and headed over to her position.

Keeling was currently in her civvies, wearing much of what Marcus wore; an N7 cap, N7 singlet with what looked to be a black bra underneath, sweat pants and steel-cap boots. Her skin wasn't pale and it wasn't bright white either; it was tanned, showing the places she had fought in. She didn't seem to wear any tattooes, and many associated with special forces commandos like herself, but she did have what looked to be a large scar swipping across her belly from what looked to be a knife. James, considering just how much he could see her wearing, found his eyes landed on her breasts, and particulary her cleavage, as she did have quite a sizable enough bust for him to take notice of.

She looked to be in the middle of patching her armor and repainting it; she had two buckets of red and black paint next to her, along with what looked to be a few scattered tools. Her chestplate was folded infront of her, helmet discarded on her left and currently holding her armor with an iron grip. Her steely eyes were focused on her task, and she seemed to either ignore or not notice him as he stood over her. Her ginger hair seemed to capture his attention however, and he also noticed the many freckles on her face and her plump lips; overall, she looked beautiful. Stunning. Amazing. And yet, underneath all of that, was a professional killer; hardcore N7. Alliance Marines, best of the best.

"Something you're looking for, Vega?" Keeling suddenly spoke, not even turning to look at him, "Or are you just going to stand there and oogle at me?"

Startled by her sudden question, he nodded erratically to show that he conceded with her question, "Yeah...I just wanted to talk. You know, marine on marine."

Keeling's lips seemed to twitch for a second, and she nodded, placing her armor on the ground next to her, bits of paint catching on her shirt as she stood up, leaning against the strut she was on, crossing her arms, "Okay then, Vega. What do you want to talk about?"

"Maybe your past?" James asked, crossing his own arms, "You haven't told us much."

"That's because it wasn't mission critical," Keeling answered simply.

"Goddamn, you're like a steel wall," James quipped, smiling, "Is the mission all that matters to you?"

"Yes, it is," she narrowed her eyes, "If you have a problem with that, then this conversation is over, Vega."

"Okay then, Imy," he replied.

"Excuse me?"

"Imy. As in Imogen," James clarified, frowning, "That is your name, isn't it?"

"Noone calls me by my first name," Keeling declared, eyes flaring dangerously, "You will refer to me as Keeling, or Second Lieutenant Keeling, or Lieutenant Keeling. But never call me Imogen, and especially not Imy."

Noting the glare in her eyes, he nodded, gulping alittle, "Okay, yeah...sure. Keeling it is," he replied, sighing at his own cowardice. _It's like they say, 'Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned.' _Sighing, he decided to ask his first question, "Anyway, back on topic. Your past. What's it all about?"

"Very well," she coughed, bringing up a crate and kicking it towards him, and he caught it with both hands, plopping himself down on it. When he looked back up, Keeling was looking at him, shaking her head. When she finally spoke, it was rushed, as if she wanted to get it over with, "I'm sure you've heard of Washington D.C back on Earth."

"It's the capital of the United North American States," James noted, nodding, "But of course I've heard of it. Its in the District of Columbia, what used to be the United States."

She nodded, impressed by his knowledge, but not showing it, "Yeah, well I never knew my parents," she shook her head, "Memory serves me right, they abandoned me when I was four-years-old and left me to live a life on the streets. Eventually, I found myself living in an orphanage. It was a pretty terrible establishment, and the people there were a mean bunch, but I lived; I was a survivor, they say. Eventually, when I was eleven, I got out of there and went to live in the slums, and that's when I found myself up with the Tenth Street Reds."

"The Tenth Street Reds?" James quiered, confused as he popped an eyebrow up, "Don't think I've heard of them."

"Not surprised. They aren't well known," she stated a-matter-of-factly, "They were a street gang that committed all sorts of crimes; theft, grand theft auto, assault, and...even murder, although I never did any of that. At least...not until I took my first life when I was thirteen," she seemed to grimace at the memory, before shaking her head and returning to the present, "Either way, I found myself hooked up with them until I was eighteen. Then...I tried to leave to join the Alliance."

"'Tried' to leave?" he pondered once more, "They wouldn't let you?"

"As far as they were concerned, I was cheap labour for them, so they tried to keep me around. When I resisted, they thought it a great idea to try and rape me. For fun, they said," she seemed to cringe at the very memory, and shook her head to clear it, careful to not show any emotion that might ruin her steely exterior.

"So what happened?"

"What do you think?"

"They raped you? What the fuck?"

"No," she replied bluntly, clearly not amused at that statement.

"Then what?"

"God you're dense," Keeling exasperated, "I killed them."

"Whoa," he held up his hands, "You killed them? Just like that?"

"Yes. Every single one, with a shard of glass I found lying on the ground. I cut my chest during the scuffle, and it didn't help that the rain was making my chest wet. Made all the blood flow worse," she stated firmly.

"Wait, chest? Wet?" he frowned, "How...?"

"Well, you tend to get soaked when outside, in the rain, and you're completely...naked," she rolled her eyes once more, as if trying to explain this to a toddler, "I did tell you I was in the process of being raped, right?"

"Christ," James exclaimed, "That's fucked up."

"You're telling me," she sighed, "Anyway, I escaped, got clothes and joined the Alliance. Once I was a marine, I applied to join the N special forces program. And now here I am, an N7, fighting on the Normandy," sighing in relief, happy to have finally finished, she looked at him once more, "Happy now?"

"That's it?" he pondered, surprised, "No great feats?"

"No. I'm just an ordinary soldier, serving as a glorified bodyguard for Admirals until I joined the Normandy," she stated, "Nothing fantastic about that."

"Well, uh," he struggled for things to say, before finally coming to a conclusion, feeling like a bit of bragging was in order, "So...if you're an N7, you must have quite a good collection of fighting moves, right?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, confused, "Yes, I do. The relevance is?"

James grinned, coming to stand, "Why don't you show me some of those skills?"

Keeling shook her head, rolling her eyes as he moved to return to her seat on the strut, "I haven't got time to waste Vega; my armor needs repainting."

James crossed his arms, pouting, "Come on, Keeling. A sparring match, you and me. The stuff marines do. Besides, if you're such an expert N7, you should be able to deck me, seconds flat."

"If you're trying to appeal to my ego, you'll find that none exists," Keeling deadpanned, "I will not waste my time with you, Mr. Vega. I have better things to do."

"You're not the bitchy type, either," James noted, "Five minutes at most, Keeling. We've got no missions, and we're literally just waiting for the War Summit, and even then we won't be doing anything. I'm only asking to spar with you; besides, Loco would appreciate you and me sparring; you know, keep our skills honed."

Keeling hesitated for a second, nodding as she seemed to ponder it. Finally, her lips creased into a not on her left, and she sighed, finally conceding as she let go of the chestplate she had been holding, letting it fall to the ground with a clang, turning towards him as she wiped her hands on her already dirty singlet, "Very well, Vega."

He nodded, turning around and walking to the center of the bay, which was now empty, cabling having been removed and sealed away after the retrofit several days earlier. Turning back around, he cracked his knuckles, followed by his neck as he nodded, picking up his dogtags and letting them fall down the back of his shirt. Letting a hand hover over what little hair he had, he looked back up to see Keeling standing across from him, standing on one leg while cramping the other against her stomach, stretching it.

James, while he waited took a fighting position, both hands raised and one leg behind the other, eyes meeting Keeling's chest; his martial arts instructor back on Earth had always taught him that you should keep your eyes center on their chest, never their eyes; they eyes deceive, but with eyes on the chest, you will see every attack coming. Although it was becoming very difficult to do, considering her bust. Instead, he focused his eyes on her neck.

Cortez wooed at him, laughing slightly. James ignored the man's taunts, keeping his eyes down range. Finally, Keeling finished her pre-fight stretches, and in a flash was assuming the same fighting position he was; dog tags hanging infront of her, fists held up, one leg behind the other, eyes focused on his chest. Her steely eyes never ceased to catch his attention; how lifeless they looked, how utterly unrelenting. The eyes of a stone-cold killer. It chilled him to the core; and yet, she still held a feminine beauty to her. _An uncanny hybrid._

"Lieutenant Vega, are you ready?" Keeling asked, lips seeming to move as if following commands.

"Lieutenant Keeling, are _you _ready?" he countered, a grin forming on his lips.

Suddenly, before either could move or start the match, there was a crackling of energy beside them, and Kasumi appeared, a large smirk on her face as she yelled in Japanese, but he easily recognized the word, "_Yumae!_"

"Let's dance!" James exclaimed as he moved forward, fists shooting forward as he made his attack. To his surprise, Keeling didn't even move, she simply stood there, looking at him, Kasumi cheering her on while Cortez cheered him on. He had hoped to make her flinch, but seeing as that failed, he made an uppercut, hoping to hit her in the chest. She simply sidestepped his attack, and step-dragged backwards with barely a sound, and he spun to face her, eyes narrowed. _Damn she's fast! I didn't even know she moved until I felt my fist hit nothing. _She still made no moves to attack, merely eying his chest with intense interest.

Without so much as a peep, he step-dragged left, then right, then forward at lightning speed, hoping to use his momentum to overwhelm her. But she was gone once more, letting a light jab impact him in the ribs, but it was enough to wind him for a second, and seeing he was about to topple, he rolled forwards, returned to guard position and turned back to face her. And there she was; making no attack, simply looking at him.

_She's special forces, what do you expect? She's meant to be better than me at beating people up. _A long time thought hit him in the head, a job proposition he had been considering for awhile, but never took up on. _Maybe I should become an N7. Maybe I should sign up to the N SpecOps program._

He stepp-dragged forward once more, this time attacking her with little, quick jabs that she had no choice but to block. But she did it with such fluidity and speed, that he might as well have not bothered. Deciding to quickly change tactics, as she didn't seem to be tiring, he launched one last jab at her chest, before quickly moving in and attempting a footsweep...

...one that was successful and, as he yelled out in triumph, he watched her fall to the ground on her back. Before he could move in for the finish off however, he felt a foot roughly connect with his chest, winding him as she used her leg to wrap around the back of his, and then used a 'scissor cut' motion, which sent him collapsing onto his belly, the marine cursing his gullibility. _She let me take her down on purpose so that she could surprise me._

He felt a knee pressing against his back, pushing further into the steel floor, his cheek planted against it. Triumphant, she spoke, "We done, Vega?"

"We're not done until the other can't fight anymore," James retorted, and before she knew it, he had rolled over, using his pencil roll to knock her off her feet. She fell forwards, but quickly shifted into a roll, shoulder roughly hitting the floor, before she landed in a crouch, looking like a cat ready to leap. He got up and moved to hit her in the back of the head, but she spun around, her fist connecting with his jaw.

Wincing from the hit, he suddenly found himself under rapid assault as Keeling moved like fluid water, fists flying back and forth too quickly for him to defend himself. One hit him in the ribcage, another across the jaw again, followed by two more, and another to his chest. To finish off, she grabbed both of his shoulders and used them as leverage to drive her knee into his chest, before ducking down, avoiding his punch, driving her elbow straight into his left kneecap.

He cried out in pain, from the attack, before growling through his teeth as he landed on one knee, sending a punch flying her way. His fist connected, Keeling unable to strafe away in time, and she staggered as it impacted her shoulder. Taking advantage, he got up and speed tackled her, bringing his manly strength into action; wrapped his arms under her armpits and tightening around her back, he rushed forward and then roughly slammed her back onto the deck, feeling the wind leave the N7 as her arms instinctively straightened, using them to absorb the impact.

He quickly straddled her, legs locking around her as he looked into her widened eyes with a grin, "Shocked? What's wrong, don't like being beaten by a man? I've heard women don't like that," _Nope, now you sound like a sexist asshole. Better change that, _"Well, I've seen women fight really hard, but-"

Something about the way he was positioned over her lit a fire into her eyes he did not see before, and for once, he saw emotion in her steely gaze; fear. Why was she scared of him? But then the emotion quickly became cold-blooded fury.

Before he knew what was happening, her teeth were sunk deep into his arm, and he shrieked loudly as he tried to rip her away. She let go, snarling as she wrapped her own legs around his neck and thrusted to the left, sending him wheeling off of her. Leaping to her feet, James had little time before he was roughly kicked in the chest, sending him rolling onto his back before another kick hit him square in the head, pain throbbing through his temple from the hit. When he opened his eyes, everything about her stance was hostile. She looked about ready to _kill_ him.

He noticed that his legs were open, but not before the N7 and, too late, he tried to close them, only for a female leg to weave its way in at high speed, slamming into his groin.

He screamed in agony, hands reflexively shooting towards his groin to protect it, holding them to dear life; god he must have looked pathetic. He raised his fist weakly, trying to hit her as she descended upon him, but she swatted it away like it was an annoying insect, her legs wrapping around his hips tightly in the same way he had done to her before, her hands landing on the deck before him, leaning over him, dogtags spilling into his face. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but notice that he was being treated to a fantastic view of her cleavage, and tried desperately to rip his eyes away as her teeth remained bared at him.

Luckily enough, a cold-steel knife being brandished at his throat by said woman was enough to discourage him from looking at her breasts and his eyes meeting hers with fear. He tried to escape her grip, but it was no use, her grip was stronger than the ordinary woman, and her knife remained at his throat, her eyes filled with malice and the intent to kill him. _Holy shit! She's fucking crazy!_

Just as she seemed about to slit his throat, a loud, harsh voice rang out.

"Keeling! Stand down immediately!"

Keeling did not respond, but he made out the words she was mumbling under her breath, "Strong. I am strong. Never again. Never ever again."

"_Keeling,_" the voice was closer, more dangerous, "_Stand down. _That wasn't a request, that was an order. Drop the knife."

"No!" she snarled, leaping off of James' body and rushing with lightning speed at the person growling at her, "Never again! NEVER AGAIN! You WILL NOT USE ME LIKE THAT! NEVER AGAIN!"

James, flabbergasted, merely watched the knife descend upon Marcus, only for its downward cresent to cease as the supersoldier grasped her wrist. She hooked him across the jaw, and he let go, but before she could drive it into her neck, a burst of biotic blue sent her reeling back slightly.

"Keeling, I'm giving you one last chance," the spectre growled dangerously, and James felt a pair of arms wrap around him, dragging him away, Kasumi whispering into his ear.

"Gotta get you out of here. Shep'll deal with this."

_"No!" she snarled, leaping off of James' body and rushing with lightning speed at the person growling at her, "Never again! NEVER AGAIN! You WILL NOT USE ME LIKE THAT! NEVER AGAIN!" _

Her voice rang in his head, and he tried to grasp at why she would yell like that. The unflappable Keeling, and now she was a snarling monster. _What the hell is wrong with her?_

Keeling wiped her mouth, snarling. Marcus took a step forward, but she stepped backward, brandishing her knife professionally, "No! Don't you fucking touch me! Go stick your prick in some other girl, but not me! YOU WON'T TOUCH ME! I'll rip your fucking throat out first!"

_Go stick your prick in-? Oh shit, I know what's going on..._

He turned to Marcus, "Loco! She's delirious! She's having flashbacks!" _This is all because I straddled her isn't it? It must have brought memories back from the past...when they tried to rape her...shit! Why did I have to be so fucking stupid!_

Marcus nodded to him, turning around, holding out his hands in peace, "I understand what you're going through Keeling, but I'm not who you think I am. I am Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, your commanding officer, and I'm _ordering _you to drop the knife before someone gets hurt. I don't want to hurt you, but I won't let you harm my crew either. _Drop it._" As soon as he was finished, an uncomfortable silence descended upon them, and all eyes were on Keeling, to see what she would do next.

James just looked at her, her beautiful, female quality with a tad bit of soldier now replaced by a rabid animal looking to kill, to maim. She looked hateful, distrustful and absolutely paranoid, unable to comprehend where she was, imprisoned by memories from the past.

"I will not stand down, _Shepard,_" Keeling growled, "You are not-"

"Enough of this, primitive."

Before anyone knew what was going on, Javik closed his eyes and grasped both of Keeling's shoulders, and the N7 stopped moving, her tense arms and body ceasing all movement and knife falling from her grip. Liara used her biotics to pick up the knife and toss it at Marcus, who deftly caught it. James got to his feet, slowly approaching the two of them as Javik broke away, Keeling's eyes opening as she staggered.

"You have dark past, but you are a survivor. That is good. You were raped," Javik noted, six eyes examining the woman, a smile creasing his face, "No, they _tried. _But you killed them; that is good. In the Empire, rape was punishable by being fed to rachni. You are strong. You were are not weak. You will survive this war if you are strong. You will survive."

Keeling backed away from him, taking deep breaths as cold sweat poured down her face. James lay a hesitant hand on her shoulder, and she whorled around to face him. He half-expected a fist to come with it, but she just looked at him, and she suddenly saw an inner child inside her eyes, someone who wanted to be held, but would not admit it. But that person who wanted to be held was dead; she died in the streets with the men who tried to molest her. A new Keeling had been born, and she was steely, unwilling to show emotion. For a moment however, that old Keeling had returned.

She became emotionless once more, and shook off his hand, turning to face Marcus with a forlorn expression, "I apologize for my behaviour, Captain. It was conduct unbecoming," she snapped a crisp salute, back to her old self in seconds, completely ignoring the prothean and marine on her sides, "You may punish me however you see fit."

Marcus returned the salute, "I will not punish you Keeling; just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Sir, I endangered a fellow officer. I could have killed him. Suitable punishment needs to be-"

"I've made my decision, Lieutenant," Marcus returned, dropping his hand, "Return to your post, and make sure it does not happen again."

"Yes sir," she returned, dropping her own hand as she pushed past Javik and returned to her post, dropping down and picking up her chestplate, returning to what she was doing before, as if nothing happened. James considered approaching her, but decided against it, Javik shaking his head.

"She is strong," the prothean noted, "But she must harness her rage and wield it against the Reapers. Her primitive human instincts got the better of her."

"Shut up Bugs," James scowled, using his nickname for the prothean, "Noone asked you."

Javik got the hint and left, followed by Marcus, who merely gave the retreating James a sad look, before he turned and headed into the elevator. As James returned to the armoury, he growled, gripping the weapons bench with a harder grip then he did before. But he wasn't angry with Keeling. Her reaction was understandable.

He was angry at _himself._

_You idiot, Vega. You bloody idiot._

_You are a fucking moron._

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1327 hours._

_Bow, Karl Heather-Class Aircraft Supercarrier NAS Karl Heather CVN-519 , Moving Across Pacific Ocean towards Manchuria, Earth._

_The Reaper War, Occupation of Earth._

_Rear Admiral David Edward Anderson._

The sea air bashed against his face, the smell of the ocean filling his nostrils as his body was jolted up and down as the Karl Heather-Class Supercarrier was rocked up and down by the waves of the Pacific Ocean, the biggest ocean on Earth. It had been a long time since sailors had smelt the salty air of the planet's oceans and been bounced up and down by its wrath; not since the Mars Archives were discovered. Of course, each nation on Earth; the Asians, Europeans and North Americans, each held their own conventional fleet of course, but it was nothing major; mostly warships from the 21st century, such as the obsolete US Nuclear Aircraft Carriers, Russian Ballistic missile submarines, and maybe the occassional destroyer. They had not expected needing its use.

They were deep within the ocean, a place the Reapers hadn't thought of when scouring the planet for humans to harvest and/or kill; that, or they just haven't checked the ocean yet. Either way, they would be in Asia before the Reapers started checking the seas. The plan was for the survivors from UNAS could hit land fall in China and make for Europe, hoping to find more survivors along the way and form a sizable resistance force. Once in Europe, anything was possible. _Maybe we'll head to Normandy. Bask in the irony._

He sighed and he twisted to look along the ship's side, wincing at the pain that shot up his chest as he did so; he had been shot before boarding the ship by a cannibal, and it was taking sometime to heal, and it never ceased giving him pain. As he looked along the hull, he saw the initials CVN-519, followed by the name 'NAS Karl Heather' sprawled next to it. Karl Heather was the name of the 62nd President of the United States, during the ending days of the 21st Century. He was also the last effective President of the United States, as a year later, the United States was dissolved and became part of the United North American States.

The ship suddenly jolted as a particularly large wave crashed against its hull, and he staggered back slightly, really not used to this ship of sailorship. He was a naval officer of space, not of the seas, and it was times like this that he wished he could have been fighting up in that blank void. It was better than being stuck on his planet. _On Earth, you can believe you're the center of the war. But out there, we're just another front._

"Admiral!" he heard a voice shout out from behind him, and he turned to face them as they walked towards him, fighting to be heard over the wrath of the sea, "I didn't think I'd find you out here!"

The man's accent was heavily Mexican, demonstrating where he originated from, and his strides meant he carried himself with distinction. The man was clearly some sort of authority figure, and Anderson could respect that; especially if he wasn't of the hardass type.

"Neither did I," he replied cryptically, turning around, straightening his officer's cap as he did, holding out a hand as he did, "I don't believe we've met."

"Sheriff Barnes," the man replied, holding out his hands, in which Anderson's tightened around, "Sheriff Yanus Barnes. I was a police officer working out of Austin, Texas. Had to leave all of that behind in a hurry though; Texas was being overran by those giant spaceships."

"They're called the Reapers," Anderson informed, shaking his hand before letting go, swaying with the rock of the vessel beneath them, "And Earth is only the beginning. The Reapers are probably attacking Palaven and other planets all over the galaxy, even as we speak." _And Shepard's going to stop them. If anyone can, he will._

The man creased his face in fear, shaking his head as he cleared it, cocking out his hip where a pistol hung from its old-style holster, "Maybe we should try peace talks, you know? See what they want. I heard they were holding negoitations for surrender in Cairo, Egypt; they've called for the leaders of United North American States, European Union (EU), Middle Eastern Confederacy (MEC), Chinese People's Federation (CPF), and the South American Protectorate (SAP) to meet there to discuss terms and surrender."

Anderson gave a grim smile, followed by a mirthless laugh, "Then the leaders have just sailed off to their deaths; the Reapers don't want peace, they want our leaders to come to them so they can indoctrinate them and turn them into their puppets; that, or harvest them, like they're doing everyone else."

"You don't know that!" The man objected, clearly not liking what he had to say.

"I do know that. A friend of mine has spoken to two Reapers. Heard their logic," he grabbed the man's shoulders, grasping them tightly as he shook him with each word, "The Reapers are hyper-advanced machines; their technology is light years ahead of ours; a full technological tier above ours on the Operon Scale. They view organics as weak; wastes of space. We are experiencing something they've been doing for billions of years; waiting fifty thousand years for us to evolve, before violently casting us down and exterminating us. They aren't looking for peace; they have no need of it," his eyes glowed dangerously, "They won't stop until Earth, and the rest of the galaxy, is devoid of life, or least all organic life, anyway." The Operon Scale was titled after a man named Jensen Operon, a scientist who labelled the first technological scale in 2052; Tier 6 was the lowest, and Tier 1 was the highest you could achieve. As it stood, the galaxy was on a Tier 3 level of tech, while the Reapers were Tier 2.

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair, "So there's nothing we can do? They refuse to talk? That meeting is just a trap?"

"They'll indoctrinate them or harvest them. Either way, they won't leave that place alive," Anderson stated gloomily, "It's up to us to defend what's left."

"We'll be landing in Manchuria two days from now at this speed," the man noted, "What then?"

"Don't know about you, but I'll be taking what's left of the UNAS military that I could assemble and cutting through Asia to Europe. From there, we hope to link up with some of the EU's, MEC's and CPF's forces and launch hit-and-runs against the Reapers. Destroy a few concentration camps, and if we're lucky, find a nuclear device, sneak it aboard a Reaper, and destroy it."

"That's it?" the man stated, flabbergasted, "We just fling pebbles at them?"

"That's all we can do. We certainly can't launch a major offensive against them; we don't have the firepower or the resources," Anderson stated clearly, turning to look back out to sea. Somewhere, along the horizon, was Manchuria, waiting for them, "But its either that or we sit idlely and let them destroy us. I for one won't make it easy for them; they'll have to fight for it, this cycle."

"I hope you know what you're doing," he stated, shaking his head as he too looked to the horizon, his look skeptical, "Cause I saw what they did to California. Its hell on Earth, literally."

Anderson merely nodded, sighing. But this time, instead of looking to the horizon, he looked up, and into the realms of space, where they could see the Moon high in the sky, nighttime falling upon them as stars twinkled in the sky. But some of those stars, many of them, were moving. And he knew they were Reapers. But Anderson looked past them, hoping to find the Normandy; it was an impossible hope, as it would be impossible to make them out. But he looked anyway, knowing they were up there.

_Do what you need to do Shepard, and bring the full might of the galaxy to bear on the Reapers. Give 'em hell, son._

And for a moment, Anderson was proud of the man he came to know as the son he never had.

**{Loading...}**

_June 7, 2186_

_1349 hours._

_Unnamed Highway, Trisek'lok City Ruins, Tor'an Wastelands, Tuchanka._

_The Reaper War, Krogan DMZ Campaign: The Tuchankan Raids._

_Vanguard._

It calculates its possible entry point as it enters the krogan homeworld's atmosphere. Protheans called it Aralakh IV; organics of this cycle call it Tuchanka, home of the krogan. Yes. Information correlated, and confirmed.

Wind rushed past it as the incredibly intense heat of the massive star known as Aralakh beat down on the Reaper Destroyer's almost impenetrable armor plating, the wrath of its sunlight not willing to relent, even for a Reaper; but Vanguard was completely unfazed by it, the idea of pain, or any feelings whatsoever, completely unknown to it; an experience it could not contemplate.

Its legs were curled up underneath it, and any krogan were looking at the atmosphere would see the form of a massive fireball erupting through the grey clouds, a fireball that would then erupt into the form of the massive 300 feet tall Vanguard, red eye buried beneath foldable optical armor plates, followed by numerous other fireballs; by these weren't Reapers. They were debris. Debris from asari, turian and salarian forces that had been hanging in orbit over the planet; defenses the Destroyer had little difficulty destroying and reducing to pieces of floating metal. Most of it hung in orbit over Tuchanka, while other chunks got caught in its gravatational wake, and were pulled in to crash into the ruins of the nuclear irradiated city ruins directly below their orbit.

In a matter of seconds, Vanguard had closed with the ground, four legs extending outwards as its monolithic form crashed into the ground, shattering the concrete that held the highway it had landed on like glass, sending shards flying up in multiple directions, the ancient highway, unstable since the nuclear fallout that befell the ruins, finally collapsed, causing a domino effect along its entire perimeter. Behind it, two skyscrapers also collapsed, while another three collapsed into the ones behind it. Its legs, having absorbed the thunderous impact, which was likely heard from across the planet, began to push its body upwards, bringing it 'to its feet,' Vanguard letting out a roar; what sounded like an airhorn to others. The first Reaper to arrive on Tuchanka was standing up.

Armor plates slid aside, and the blaring red eye of the giant machine, like that of a Cyclops, began to examine its surroundings, taking in the ruined city; ruins that had existed long before the Krogan Rebellions a thousand years ago, and the Rachni Wars before that; since before the salarians had even uplifted the krogan; they had existed ever since the Tuchankan Nuclear War, one that Sovereign had observed personally from orbit, relaying it to Harbinger. A war that had turned Tuchanka into the wasteland that it was now; reduced the krogan from a proud race, to a species snivelling in the irradiated dirt it had given birth to.

Unimpressed, Vanguard raised one leg and swept it across, carving a path through the weakened structures of numerous buildings around it, time having made them as weak and brittle as paper, and they tore just as easily. Tapping into its built-in satellite system, it transmitted a planet-sweeper in seconds, giving it a detailed map of the entire planet. It saw all the ruined cities, the three wastelands of the planet: Que'k, Tor'an and L'vt, and numerous outstanding landmarks. But Harbinger had sent Vanguard on a very important mission, and he would see it done.

Their forces were sweeping across the galaxy, the batarian and human homeworlds cut off, the turian homeworld under siege, and the asari and salarian homeworlds threatened; but Harbinger had it made clear it had no interest in invading Sur'Kesh just yet, so the salarians were safe for now; instead, it was now making plans for their simultaneous invasion of the Ismar Frontier, along with Irune and Dekuuna; the volus and elcor homeworlds, hopefully, followed by Kahje, the hanar homeworld. Then, they would begin their assault on Thessia, followed by the Terminus Systems. However, like Sur'Kesh, Tuchanka was not on their priority list; the krogan were not a threat as far as they were concerned. However, recent developments left Harbinger suspicious.

Shepard was proving to be more dangerous than they anticipated; he was trying to unite the galaxy: a pitiful hope, but one that needed to be checked, nonetheless. And if sources from one of their brethren, a Tarantula-Class Troop Transport named Destiny, was right, then Shepard was planning a krogan-turian alliance; and there was only one way to achieve that, as Sovereign had taught them before its demise.

And that was why Vanguard was on Tuchanka; to launch numerous raids on its surface, while trying to determine where the krogan would attempt to disperse a cure from. But while it was doing that, it might as well shake up the resistance alittle; and with that, ejection tubes opened all over the Reaper's body, and orange strobes of light shot out from it and landed all over the planet; containing Reaper troops consisting of all those they had access to; human husks, batarian cannibals, turian marauders, krogan brutes and harvesters. Soon, if the campaigns elsewhere went well, they could add volus, elcor and hanar husks to that army as well, and maybe even some salarians and asari as well.

As Reaper troops deployed on Tuchanka, Vanguard continued its trek through the city ruins, trying to find exactly where the organics would go to deploy a cure. The best possible area. It knew the krogan would resist its trespass of their territory, and knew they couldn't resist the temptation to attack.

It counted on it. Tuchanka would be harvested like all the rest.

It would just take awhile.

**"And so comes the War Summit. That certainly changed the course of the war. But it also opened a new door in galactic history. A new chapter."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Tell us. Tell us how you got the turians and the salarians and the krogan working together. How you made the Krogan Confederacy possible."**

**- Tali'Shepard pav Rannoch. **

**"Through a lot of diplomacy, democracy, guns, more guns and alot of Reapers. Add a certain crazy salarian we know, and you've got your history chapter."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"Just get on with it."**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Well, it all began with a War Summit on June 8, 2186..."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**You know it: the next chapter is the War Summit, along with those conversations with Cortez and Samantha I've been busting my ass to add. Also, that scene was Keeling I felt really good about writing; why? Because I never planned for it. I merely wanted to write a scene where Keeling beat the shit out of Vega for making sexist comments, and Marcus would laugh his ass off at it; instead, I saw an opportunity to open up Keeling's personality; to look at her dark past. I hope to make her a more interesting character as the story goes on. What did you guys think of that scene?**_

_**And Vanguard is on the prowl. Myron, none of your guesses were anywhere close! Yet again, its kinda hard to predict a Reaper POV, isn't it?**_

_**P.S: Yes, Vanguard is the Reaper guarding the Shroud in the game. **_

_**After the War Summit chapter, we'll have Priority: Sur'Kesh. **_

_**And yes, I finally gave you the glimpse of Tali that you wanted. I can't be solely focused on her, you know. xD**_

_**Keelah se'lai, troopers!**_


	14. Chapter 12 Bad Blood

**HOLOCAUST**

**CHAPTER TWELVE:**

**BAD BLOOD**

_June 8, 2186_

_1414 hours._

_Airlock, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, Docked with MSV Warrior's Clasp, In Orbit over Mannovai, Mevaro System, Annos Basin Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Jeff 'Joker' Moreau, EDI, Primarch Adrien Victus, Zaf Ristu of the Protectorate, Ambassador Xeltan, Assistant Zymandis, Ambassador Delanynder of the Primacy, Drell Ambassador Ahosfo Naat, President Weshra T'Ron, Dalatrass Linron, Councilor Donnel Udina._

There was only one thing Marcus could really think of during the moment that he spent standing there, his posture rigid as he waited for the decontamination cycle to finish. Well, two things actually. One was that he now _despised _his officer's uniform, and two was that he hoped this didn't start another war.

The War Summit had been finally called; and it was to be hosted in the Normandy's Conference Room, which was fair enough, considering Hackett, the defacto military commander of the UGC, had labelled it their flagship and mobile command center, meaning it would be the best place to do it; it had a stealth drive, and it could easily escape an enemy ambush. So here they were.

They were in orbit over Mannovai, one of the first worlds the salarians ever colonized after mastering spaceflight. It looked like a giant jungle planet, like Pragia, just without the perputual rain. It was one hell of a sight from orbit, and one Joker got to enjoy as the pilot sat idlely, as the Normandy would be in orbit of the planet for a bit; the Reapers had made no forrays or attempts to invade salarian space, and left the Annos Basin well enough alone, so they were safe for now. Just as long as the Reapers didn't get wind of the meeting.

The War Summit was alot bigger then any of them could have predicted; what had originally been just the krogan, volus and all four Council races, had turned into a congregation for practical every species in the galaxy except the quarians, geth, yahg, raloi and virtual aliens, the last three of which weren't even spaceflight worthy; and the raloi didn't count. But Marcus could understand why they were present; the drell and hanar were getting worried because they believed indoctrinated agents had compromised Kahje's defense network, the volus and elcor were frightened because the Reapers were pressing on their borders, and the rest were here simply because they were originally meant to be here. Udina had been a surprising pick-up, but yet again, humanity did need a representative.

Hackett hadn't been able to turn up, as they couldn't risk revealing the superweapon's location to the enemy, so he had tried to convince Marcus to stand in humanity's place, but he had refused on the boundary that he was a soldier, and not a politician; he left that to Udina. Nonetheless, Hackett told him to keep the human councilor in check, as his human-centrist agenda could ruin the whole meeting. The spectre agreed, and promised to keep him under watch. And so he did.

And so here they stood; a representative from the hanar, elcor and drell embassies, along with the leaders of the turians, asari, volus, salarians and humanity; and as Udina had said, 'He was now the most powerful human in existence...meaning I'm their last leader.' Somehow, he didn't like the idea of that man being humanity's leader, but Marcus wasn't about to complain; he was doing all the political work for him. _Guess I understand why Anderson quit the position. _

He shifted again, sighing as he once again had to adjust the collar before it choked him to death. He seemed ready to growl, which would attract alot of looks from the politicians around him, when Joker spoke, voice cheery as ever, "Hey Shepard? The decontamination cycle is done. You want us to let them in?"

Marcus nodded, turning to the decon chamber, still wondering who Wrex would send as a representative. Definitely not Grunt. _God, I'd kill to see you two again; my unstoppable krogan band of brothers...or son, in Grunt's case. _He grinned at that thought, shaking his head, "Roll out the welcome wagon, Joker."

The pilot gave no response, and Marcus simply watched as the blue interface turned red, and then finally green, the two pieces of bulkhead sliding apart, revealing the occupant inside...or rather, _occupants. _Apparently, the krogan weren't the only one sending a representative.

His eyes narrowed in a deadly glare, malice filling his eyes as his hand immediately went to his hip, ready to draw his pistol. He gritted his teeth in anger, memories flooding his mind. Torfan. Asteroid X57. Madi'Soi. Every single one pissed him off, filled him with pure rage, and if he hadn't been for the enormous restraint he was placing upon himself at this very moment, he might have ripped the man's throat out.

There stood Balak Uhtero, de facto Regent of what was left of the Batarian Hegemony, and he merely returned Marcus' glare. He was not only a slaver, but a batarian extremist, terrorist and murderer. He had been in charge of the batarian soldiers on Torfan that killed his men, had tried to drop an asteroid on Terra Nova three years ago, and had captured and tortured Kal's girlfriend, Madi, a year ago. He despised the man's very existence, and the last he had seen the disgusting piece of organic life had been on the Citadel, but now here he stood. On his ship. Unarmed.

"Captain Shepard," Balak growled.

Marcus didn't even greet him, but did not draw his pistol, "What the _fuck _are you doing here?"

The piece of shit _smiled, _and looked around at them, "To attend this War Summit, what else?"

"Get the fuck off my ship," Marcus growled.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"What is the meaning of this?" Weshra spoke, leader of the asari, her face covered in orange tattooes, "You cannot just tell an ambassador to leave! This is a War Summit! He has every right to be here!"

"He is a _terrorist, _a _murderer, _and a _scumbag_," Marcus spat, pointing at the man, "And I will not have him on my ship as anything more than a rotting corpse."

"How primitive of you," Balak retorted, shaking his head, "It seems my assertions of humanity are true; you are mindless animals."

"We'll be sure to keep that in mind the next time we kick your ass. For the third...no, _fifth_, time," Marcus retorted, "Now get off my ship."

"Shepard," Udina piped up, and he turned to face the man, who straightened his three thousand credit suit, the man's brow furrowed, face looking aged, "No matter our greviances with Balak," Udina stated, and Marcus had a bit more respect for the man when he heard the disgust in his tone that was well hidden, "He is a representative of the batarian people. You said it yourself; we must put aside past alegations and convictions and unite together to fight a common enemy. You may not like Balak, and you may want to rip his throat out, but we need everyone united. Including the batarians, and Balak is their leader."

_He could be replaced. _Marcus thought of saying, but thought better of it. Giving Balak one final glare, he gave a slow nod, before turning back to Udina, "Very well," but like lightning, he had Balak pinned up against a bulkhead, biotics alight and growling through his teeth, "But if you make just _one move _or say _one word _that I don't like, I'll use your blood to repaint the walls. Do you understand me?"

Balak simply glared back at him, and for a second, it looked like he would make some snarky remark and Marcus would have to kill him. Instead, he slackened, let his hands fall to his side and gritted his teeth, "Very well, _human_."

The spectre released his grip on the batarian and backed away, letting him fall to his feet as he reshaped his uniform, smoothing it out. Marcus nodded to the others, and was about to turn to the airlock when he heard and saw Linron gasp, and before he could turn to fully face what she gasped at it, a raspy voice that he knew and loved came from the airlock.

"Well Shepard," the voice came, a noticable grin recognizable from its comedic tone, "I see you still don't enjoy taking shit from people. The one thing I loved most about you; killing pyjaks."

He turned fully, a large smile on his face, and he saw the crocodilian grin on the krogan extend as well as he stood there, only just looming over him, "Wrex!"

"Shepard!" the krogan moved forward, sweeping him up into a bone-crushing, brotherly hug. Marcus, as always, was left wheezing for breath, but Wrex waved it off, knowing just how strong he was, and slapped him on the back, chortling, "Its good to see you again, Shepard."

"You're the last person I expected to be here," the N7 replied once he had his breath under control, "I expected a krogan ambassador, but not you Wrex! Don't be wrong, its great to see you, but don't you have a clan to run?"

"Yeah," the krogan muttered, "Come to think of it, better not make a habit of these visits. There's only so much trust I can put into that pyjak Wreav. Besides, the Reapers should be enough motivation to keep him in check; that, and my wrath if he doesn't. But hey, I helped you defeat the Shadow Broker, and I'm definitely going to help with these peace talks. About time, too."

"Noone informed me we'd be negoitating with a krogan!" Linron protested, her voice rising in crescendo and irritation.

Wrex turned to her, shaking his head, blood red eyes, always intimidating, locking with hers and causing her to shrink back slightly before he turned back to Marcus, shrugging, "I don't like her already; she seems preachy. Annoying. Like a pyjak. And I crush pyjaks."

"Now now Wrex," Marcus shook his head, "Be a good krogan. I need all these delegates in one piece, including the dalatrass."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Wrex asked, slamming his chest with an armoured fist, "Let's get this War Summit over and done with. We have alot to discuss, do we not? Galactic affairs and what not."

"We solemn agreement: this War Summit is of utmost importance," agreed Xeltan, ambassador for the elcor, the man's hulking, four-legged form hanging in the background, featureless face devoid of the emotion it couldn't show, "With absolute terror: our existence depends on it."

"Then shall we head to the Conference Room?" Victus piped up, and all eyes turned on him. Marcus gave a brief nod of approval, and everyone within the corridor began to shuffle away and towards the conference room on the left.

The security checkpoint, as usual, was a pain in the ass, but they eventually got past it, and everyone filed into the room, and around the table they assembled. By the time everyone was inside, Marcus and Udina were at the end, Victus and Zaf Ristu at the other end, Wrex, Delanyder and Zymandis and Xeltan on the left and Weshra, Balak, Ahosfo and Linron on the right, the void of space observable on the right through the observation room. There was a few shuffles before silence finally descended upon them, and in that time, Marcus got a good look at all of them, examining their features.

Zaf Ristu didn't have any notable features that distinguished him from the other volus he had seen; like all volus, he was short and chubby, no taller than a human four-year-old, and looking obese to any other human was ignorant. They wore a full-body suit, but unlike quarians, they could not leave them no matter the circumstance, as they could only breathe in a methane atmosphere, like that of their homeworld, and any other atmosphere would cause their skin to literally pop and sizzle. Ristu's full body enviro-suit was lined with orange stripes, while the rest was the tell-tale black and white of most volus suits.

Xeltan, like all elcor, was featureless and could not show emotion at all, which meant they had to verbalize what emotion they were feeling, making things quite humorous. They were four-legged, moving around like a sloth, and a large arched back, which was a pale grey in color. Xeltan wore an extravagant green and blue cloth over his back, along with an equally extravagant head covering. Many had called elcor soldiers 'walking tanks,' as they were incredibly strong, but couldn't carry normal weapons, so they carried a single cannon, turret or rotary missile launcher on their back. But Xeltan was a politician, but an oddly well-built one at that.

All hanar really just looked the same, and this was no more prominant than with Dalanyder and his assistant, Zymandis. They all looked like floating jellyfish, with long stands of tentacles coming from beneath their body, and the body itself seeming to glow everytime they spoke, and when they did speak, it seemed as if their voice was echoing with every word within themselves; it was quite enrapturing. Hanar also had face names and soul names; these two's face names were Delanyder and Zymandis, but their soul name was private; only known to them. As for those two, they simply hovered there, nothing unique about them.

The drell ambassador, Ahosfo Naat, was something different entirely. He wore a leather suit, with a gold trim and seemed to have a large cut along his upper lip, giving it a rather disturbing appearence. He had steel-capped boots, and held himself with the same stature and respect that Thane did, showing a common trend among the drell; and while Marcus had been annoyed that the hanar used the drell for little more than assassins and military soldiers, he was glad that the drell at least got representation.

Weshra T'Ron, President of the Asari Republics, was a very interesting person. She was a Matriarch, and it was clear she had been born some time after the Rebellions, so she was well advanced in her age, almost looking like Benezia. But unlike most species in the galaxy, asari did not age physically; they never grew wrinkles, never 'became old,' never lost their sight, memory or motory skills, and never tired; they remained the same as if they were still young; one of the blessings of the asari and their advanced age, and one of their banes. Weshra still looked incredibly attractive, despite being 952, only fifty years from her death bed. Her eyes were a tough green, she leaned over the desk with weariness, gripping it with a steel grip, and seemed to constantly bite her lip.

And then there was Dalatrass Linron, one of many dalatrasi that formed the Salarian Union's government. Salarian government was very unique in that it had a ranking system; there was Secres, who were the lowest ranked and with little power, followed by the Reprats, who were allowed to vote, be elected, and so on. Followed by that were the Lower Netrasi, then the Higher Netrasi, and finally the Dalatrasi. Of the two Dalatrasi leading the Union, Linron was one of them, and their power was absolute; they even had pull with Councilor Valern, who, truth be told, was once a Dalatrass himself.

Linron was a female, and one of the first female salarians he had met that didn't involve him shooting at her. She wore a large robe that covered her entire body, with a large red line down the middle, while the rest of it was predominantly dark blue. She had slim arms wrapped in a black leather, and she wore a hood, which covered the female salarian's lack of crests like the males had, and her mouth was set in a firm line, giving Wrex a watchful eye. He found himself agreeing with Wrex's assessment of the woman. _I don't like her already. Reminds me too much of Mordin before I convinced him otherwise. _Thoughts of the salarian professor sprang up in his mind, and he smiled momentarily before wiping it off. _We miss ya, buddy._

He sighed, leaning against the table audible enough to let the whole room that social time was over, and he was speaking. Every eye in the room turned towards him, and he nodded, beginning to speak as his eyes scanned the room, "As of now, vorcha aside, we now have every single species in this room, as this War Summit intended," shaking his head, "However, it would seem the quarians would not be joining us today. They would be, but for reasons unknown, their Migrant Fleet seems to have completely vanished and is not responding to all attempts to contact it. So for now, the quarians will not be part of this Summit." He was careful not to mention the geth; having a krogan in the room was bad enough, he didn't need to bring up the idea of allying with the geth. _They're already distrustful of Wrex anyway. If they won't listen to him, they won't listen to me if I bring up the geth._

"They are most likely all dead. Extinct," Weshra stated, as if knowing all the facts straight up, "The Reapers found them and destroyed their Fleet. Its the logical assumption."

"Knowing galactic communications, something like that wouldn't happen quietly," Marcus deadpanned, "We'd know by now. And if that wasn't enough evidence for you, then I'll tell you that reports from Illium a day ago say that the Migrant Fleet passed by their system and then vanished; that was the last known visual report. They are still out there."

"Pointless arguing about it *ergh* anyway," Ristu added, "The quarians *ergh* wouldn't be able to help us *ergh* even if we *ergh* wanted them to. They're nothing but *ergh* Beggars and *ergh* thieves. Their fleet *ergh* would be destroyed too easily for them to *ergh* be of any use. Best we *ergh* forget about them for now. *ergh*"

Marcus gritted his teeth, but Wrex only seemed to grin, shaking his head at the volus as he turned to him, casually leaning one hand against the desk, "Better watch who you call beggars and thieves around Shepard, little gas-sucker. His wife just happens to be a quarian, and my niece." As he spoke, his voice became a little bit more dangerous, until he was shooting the volus a death glare. The volus fell silent, nodding his consent. Marcus, nodding his thanks to the krogan before disarming the situation before the spectre could rip the bastard's suit open, turned to them, offering his final word on the subject, "So they won't be joining us."

Everyone nodded, Marcus turning to Udina, who began to speak, leaning forward, "The point of this War Summit is to see who will pledge their priorities to the newly formed United Galactic Confederacy or not. So far, the Systems Alliance is spearheading the union, and the Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack and Aria T'Loak's troops are committed to it. However, we all know it isn't enough. Everyone must pitch in; which is why you are here. You are your respective people's leaders, and we ask you what you would do," he waited, and seeing noone speak, he spoke again, "State your terms, and we will comply."

"This one believes that no terms are needed," Delanyder spoke, voice echoing, body glowing ethereally, "This one believes that unification is inevitable. It pledges its people to the UGC, along with its fleets, and armies."

_Just like that? Wow, this could be easier than I thought. _Marcus mused to himself, inwardly cheering that the UGC was now strengthened by hanar support. _The entire hanar military, and Delanyder just gave it away without a second thought._

"Your decision isn't without its merits," Udina complimented, "You made the right choice, Ambassador. Thank you."

"This one hopes it is put to good use," Delanyder declared, "As another gesture of goodwill, we will send our engineers to help with this superweapon you are building. They are not the best the galaxy has to offer, but this one hopes they suffice."

"Send them to the Citadel," Marcus responded, "I'll have Hackett send a few stealth shuttles to pick them up, but we cannot give you the exact coordinates. Our superweapon must remain hidden."

"This one deems this decision fair," Delanyder agreed, "My assistant, Zymandis, agrees."

The hanar assistant himself made no movements of acknowledgement, and Marcus stared at him suspiciously; he hadn't really done anything during the entire meeting, and simply looked blankly at the wall infront of it. _Just what is he doing? _His investigation of the hanar's odd behaviour was interrupted when Ahosfo spoke up, hands still clasped behind his back.

"The drell pledge their support as well," the ambassador declared, "We cannot do much, but the drell will do all they can for the UGC to put an end to the Reaper menace that threatens all our worlds. The Drell will join the UGC, and all our soldiers and assassins will be yours to command."

"The UGC thanks the drell and hanar of the Kahje Primacy for their added support," Udina stated clearly, nodding to both parties, "You're contribution to the war effort will not be worthless. We also ask that any drell engineers you have, if they exist, be added to the superweapon project."

Marcus merely nodded, showing his approval. _So now the humans, hanar and drell are united. But it's not enough. The hanar and drell aren't much on their own; we need the major players. We need the Council races._

All eyes in the room turned on Xeltan, apparently designating him as the one who would speak next. To the elcor's credit, he didn't seem at all surprised at this, and began to speak in the dull monotone that no elcor could help using, "With grim melancholy: the elcor of Dekuuna have deemed the situation desperate. With solemn declaration: the elcor have no choice but to commit our forces to your UGC. This alliance is the only thing that will save Dekuuna."

"So Xeltan, you agree to merge the elcor military, all your fleets and armies, to the UGC armada? And all your available enginers to the superweapon project?" Udina asked to clarify.

"With absolute determination: yes," Xeltan answered simply, and Marcus inwardly cheered. _Yes. Now we have the hanar, drell and elcor. The UGC's growing quickly._

"Excellent," all eyes came to land on Balak, "How about you, Regent? Will the Hegemony merge with the UGC? We understand your people were the worst hit."

Balak seemed to sneer at the very idea of having to socialize with a human, but nodded, hands clasping behind his back in a pathetic attempt to achieve one's own dignity, "Unlike the rest of you," the batarian spat, "The batarian people will not join this foolish conglomerate blindly; we _do _have terms."

"Get in line," Wrex growled back, and the batarian seemed to glare at him momentarily before realizing the futility of trying to intimidate a krogan, and backed off, looking back at Udina and Marcus, who seemed alot more attractive to his eyes now.

Marcus nodded, responding for Udina, "Spit it out, Balak. This War Summit is not a bandy of words, if you have any grudges, I suggest you get them off your chest."

"Its very simple, Shepard," Balak sneered, seeming to smile smugly, "Your head, for our men and ships."

"Excuse me?" Marcus replied almost instantly, fingers digging into the table's surface as everyone now looked at Balak, including Wrex, who's look seemed to have gotten very dangerous all of a sudden.

"Do not think the Hegemony has forgotten what you did to the Bahak System," Balak spat, slamming a fist on the table, "You murdered three hundred thousand of our people, and we demand justice!"

"The Reapers murdered thousands more than I did and are still doing so," he countered, "Yet you don't cry for their heads; admit it Balak, you simply see Bahak as an excuse to finally justify having me dead. I destroyed the Alpha Relay to save the galaxy and buy us time; not my fault your people, and the Council, squandered it."

"I don't care why you did it, and neither do my people. Its your corpse, or no batarians," Balak replied, smug as ever.

"Very well then."

"You'll give us your head?"

"I never said that," the captain replied, giving him a blank look, "It just means the UGC will have to do without you."

Everyone looked at him suddenly with looks of shock, including Wrex, who had looked about ready to throw Balak out an airlock. Balak sputtered, narrowing his eyes further at the man before him.

"You need the Hegemony. The UGC needs us."

The spectre shrugged, "You're a battered people with a battered military and retarded leadership who wastes time trying to get vengeance for something that happened six months before thousands of sentient starships came to try and murder every living being in the galaxy. I don't see what use you'd provide to the UGC. If anything," his voice became a growl as the table groaned from the pressure of being gripped so hard, "You'll join just to _survive_."

All four of the batarian's eyes seemed to widen instantly, rage entering them as he regarded the human before him, "You _dare_ to suggest that I'll-"

"You'll either do that or fight the Reapers alone, Balak. But do not think I'll stop fighting the Reapers and sacrifice my life to satisfy your pathetic bloodlust," he slammed a fist on the table, causing the regent to wince, "You either start working with us humans cooperatively, or you can get off my ship. You best make the right choice. Which will it be Balak? Would the batarians like to take on the Reapers single-handedly? Finish the job for them?"

The batarian leader was silent for a few moments, and everyone waited on him for an answer. His mouth remained set in a firm line, and as his lips slowly split, showing his sharp canine teeth, he snarled, nodding as he looked away from him, "Fine! Our fleets...and armies, are yours!"

Marcus nodded, "Excellent choice, Balak. See that you haven't made the wrong one." Balak made him no mind and made no response, the batarian resigning to remaining silent for the rest of the Summit meeting; but it did not matter. The UGC now possessed the full might of the Batarian Hegemony, how little left there was of it, and could move forward. And in a few moments, all eyes landed on Zaf Ristu; that is, tried to find him, as he was smaller than the table was high.

The volus spoke with dignity at least, refusing to acknowledge everyone's attempts to look at him, "The Volus Protectorate of *ergh* Irune will not be joining the UGC. Our economic, political and military might lay behind *ergh* the turian hierarchy. Without their military *ergh* support, we are helpless."

Victus nodded, "The volus are bound to us by the Treaty of Irune; the protectorate between us means that the turian empire provides what the volus lack in military, and what we lack in economic wisdom. In return, we gave them a dreadnought of our design and they took it as the flagship of their bombing fleet; they call it the VPS Kwunu. It was recently upgraded with a thanix cannon, coincidentally. But the other part of the agreement was that the volus would only go to war if the turians fought with them or provided support, which means they won't pledge support until we do," the Primarch stated, meeting Marcus' eyes directly. Marcus knew what he meant.

_The turians want krogan support before they merge with the UGC, and the volus want turian support before they merge with the UGC. Which means to get the volus, we need to get the krogan respectively. I can't argue with that package. _The volus were economical marvels, which meant being in bed with them would get them the resources needed to construct their superweapon. Turian and krogan military support would also bolster their forces expodentially; and they could get it all with just one turian-krogan coalition. _This might actually work out._

"Very well," Udina replied solemnly, turning to Weshra. _Finally, now to get to the real meat of it. _"What say the Asari Republics? You have been rather quiet President T'Ron."

"I have been pondering," Weshra replied, and after what seemed to be a moment of thought, she shook her head, "And I have come to the conclusion that I cannot pledge the Republics to this UGC; it seems like a cause doomed to fail. I mean, a krogan-turian coalition? Impossible. We're talking thousands of years of base-born hatred. Its too farfetched, and what seems more ridiculous is this superweapon of yours; how can we even trust it, and should we? It could be a Cerberus trap," with a final sigh, she stepped away, crossing her arms, "There are just too many variables. No, the asari shall remain on the sidelines with this."

Marcus cursed her inwardly, but did not voice his opinion. _The asari are the most advanced species in the galaxy; that, and given they are all natural biotics, and they would have spearheaded the UGC. Goddamn you Weshra! The asari will die if you remain on the sidelines! But it looks like she's not willing to budge, and I can't really judge her when I hardly believe in this superweapon myself. _Still, the marginalization of the asari hurt the UGC badly, and they would likely pay for it. _Damn them all to hell. I guess I shouldn't worry; Weshra will come crying when the Reapers start pressing on asari borders._

"That's...unfortunate, President T'Ron, but we will respect your decision, nonetheless," Udina stated, not seeming to be troubled by this as he turned to look down the table, seemingly ignoring Linron for the moment as he looked at Victus, "Primarch, what say the Turian Hierarchy? We are all eager to hear these terms you've been discussing with Captain Shepard."

Marcus stiffened and shot a look in Linron's direction as Victus began to speak, watching for her undoubtably drastic reaction, "We have discussed the possibility of full turian support being pledged to the UGC, and in Palaven's current state, I have respectfully declined to merge Hierarchy forces with this alliance," he paused, and continued, "However, we have come to an agreement that the only realistic way we can see the turian military joining the UGC is if the pressure is taken off Palaven."

"And just how do you plan to do this?" Udina asked incredulously, ruffling his short hair, "This is no small feat to achieve."

"That is what Shepard told me, until I informed me just what I required. What Palaven needed," his eyes, in that moment, also turned to Linron, but then turned to Wrex, meeting with the krogan's eyes, "For turian support to be an option, I need the krogan. Urdnot Wrex, we call upon the krogan once more, but this time, we don't request for your support, we beg for it."

To the krogan's credit, he did not rant about how they were also needed in the Rachni Wars, or boasting about how he had a turian Primarch virtually begging him for help, but simply stood there, nodding. When the Primarch was finished, all was silent, and even Linron seemed to stop moving, eyes meeting Marcus' with shock, which quickly turned into distrust and disgust. He looked away, looking at Wrex, who was now looking smugly at Linron, face split in a large, reptilian grin.

"About time. I guess it's my turn?" Wrex asked, and the whole room remained silent, and he took that as consent, "Well, as for the krogan, we demand alot. I'd have brought a list, but I decided ranting about it might make things a bit more interesting," he winked at his spectre friend, who simply rolled his eyes, sighing lightly so none could hear him. Already, he could see Linron's mouth moving. _Oh fuck me, here we go._

"The krogan is in no position to make demands!"

Wrex glared at her, his grin gone, and the table creaked as he braced against it, "This krogan has a name. _Urdnot Wrex_," he snarled, eyes glowing with venom, "And I'm not some junkyard varren you unleash whenever you're in trouble," by the end of his sentence, he was now leaning over the table, with the table dangerously close to snapping off its support from the amount of weight being applied to its frame. He towered over the salarian, but she did not shrink back, merely crossing her arms, but Balak definitely backed away slightly, not wanting to be next to a ticking krogan timebomb.

Marcus tried to defuse the situation. "Wrex...that's enough..." _Although I'd rather let you continue...I have a feeling Linron is going to become rather uncooperative very quickly._

The krogan nodded and shrunk back slightly, eyes becoming less full of malice and more diplomatic, Marcus having successfully abated his blood rage. Everyone watched Marcus with awe, much like the salarians had looked at him on Virmire, impressed by his ability to calm a krogan down, especially when on the verge of a blood rage; a nearly necrotic state they enter that pumps them full of adrenaline, makes them almost immune to pain, and immensely powerful. And he had stopped it. To them, he was the first diplomat there was.

Wrex, continuing with more normality in his voice, although he still eyed Linron spitefully, spoke once more, looking around the room, specifically at Victus, "Right now, I've got my own problems," he rubbed at his headcrest, sighing, although with a krogan's voice, it sounded like a growl, and almost every one flinched at it except Marcus, "A Reaper, Destroyer-Class, has just arrived on Tuchanka a day ago; like a precursor force for a much larger Reaper invasion, if the Battle of Arcturus was any indication," he turned to Victus, frowning heavily, "So why should I care if a few turians go extinct?" Marcus saw what Wrex was doing; he had already promised krogan support in the war to Marcus. He was testing the ground; seeing what Victus had to offer. _Wrex isn't dumb. He's a great example of the intelligence some krogan can show. Their not all blood-thirsty brutes._

Victus shook his head, remaining calm and stoic despite the krogan before him, "Trying to draw out negoitations will get you nowhere Wrex; we don't have time for it, and Palaven does not have time for it. Just tell us what you want and get it over with."

"A turian willing to talk. I'm beginning to like you," Wrex complimented, throwing a glance at Linron, but making no comment as he turned back around, a smug expression beginning to cover his face. For some reason, Marcus didn't like the look of that grin, "I'll tell you what I need. What the krogan people need." He turned back around, this time meeting Linron's suspicious eyes with his own, the smug glint never leaving his irises. He looked at Marcus, grin widening, and turned back, "A cure to the genophage."

Marcus' eyes widened in an instant, as he was sure was the same for everyone else in the room. In all retrospect he should have seen the prospect coming; the krogan despised the disease placed upon them, and for them to properly wage war, they'd need it eradicated; they'd never replenish their numbers fast enough. But the fact that the krogan clan chief just spouted it out, infront of the turian Primarch and salarian Dalatrass no less, surprised him to no end. _I back you, Wrex, but I hope you know what you're doing._

Linron's eyes widened to epic proportions, something he thought he'd never see, even in Mordin's shocked expression, and she took a step back, waving a dismissive hand, "_Absolutely not. _The genophage is non-negoitable."

Marcus, having had enough of that Dalatrass' crap, even though he had only suffered a minute bit of it, whirled on her with a frown, "Why are you so opposed to this, Dalatrass?"

"What are you, ignorant?" Linron countered, "_My _people uplifted the krogan! We know them best!"

"You mean you used us!" Wrex replied, waving his own dismissive hand as the venom reentered his eyes, smug grin leaving his face as it contorted in anger, "To fight a war you couldn't win! It wasn't the salarians or the asari or even the turians that stopped the rachni! It was the krogan who turned the tide!" he slammed a fist against his chest in pride, glowering at her from across the table, the rest of the diplomats forgotten.

"And after that you ceased to be useful!" Linron seemed to sneer, "The genophage was the only way to keep your 'urges' in check." Much like Sparatus of old, she used air quotes to punctuate 'urges' like it was some kind of disease, and this only made Wrex's gaze all the more terrifying.

Before Marcus could open his mouth to tear the Dalatrass apart verbally, Victus stepped in, forever the arbiter, and turned to Linron, annoyance in his features, "Dalatrass, you may not like him, but Wrex is right," he motioned to the krogan in their midst, Balak going forgotten, "Insulting him won't change that, and you'll still be wrong in the end."

"I won't apologize for speaking the _truth_," Linron stubbornly stated, turning back, turning to Udina to appeal to the human councilor, "We uplifted the krogan to do one thing: wage war. It's all they know because it's all we wanted them to know."

Marcus had enough, "In case you hadn't noticed Dalatrass, we _are _at war right now; one of the most decisive this galaxy has ever had," he pointed out, meeting the salarian's gaze, "If we lose this war, it costs us our existence. We _need the krogan._"

"That's exactly my point Captain," Linron replied calmly, "The Union made a rash decision; we turned to the krogan in desperation. It's the same mistake you're about to make today if you go through with the krogan's demands. No good can come from curing the genophage."

"_Urdnot Wrex _is my friend. Not only that, but he's my _battle-brother,_" Marcus growled, "And he, and his people, _are not a fucking mistake_," he couldn't help but not sneer at the Dalatrass, something she flinched at, having expected someone with cold reasoning, and at any other time he would have responded in kind, but this was a friend of his they were talking about, and he did pity the krogan. _Out of all the species in the galaxy, the krogan and the quarians get most of the unnecessary hate. They are the strongest, and they will be what saves the galaxy_, "The krogan have paid enough for their mistake. The genophage has gone on long enough."

Wrex nodded, turning back to glare at Linron once more, "One thousand, four hundred and seventy-six years, _if you're keeping count_." He seemed to only say this to Linron, his hatred focused solely on the salarian female, and he couldn't blame him.

"It was a thousand years of peace! Safe from these..._brutes_," she spat, disgusted by the word.

The sound of biotics whirled in the air, and his fist contacted the table's surface, denting its polished surface and causing everyone in the room to jolt from the sound, including Linron, all except Wrex, who simply looked at the perpetrator; a very infuriated Marcus standing at the table, fist wrapped in biotic blue as it lay on the table, denting it heavily.

He practically growled his irritation, "Enough is enough, Dalatrass; I won't listen to anymore of your twattle, and I won't stand here and watch my friend be insulted when he helped save your worthless ass three years ago. Remember the Battle of the Citadel? You know, _the first case of a fucking Reaper invading the galaxy_?" he shook his head, "That was the Council's fault mostly, but I won't go on pedantics; the genophage _will _be cured, and I don't give a damn if you like it or not."

To his surprise, Victus nodded agreement, "You're absolutely right, Captain. The genophage needs to end, and while I don't exactly pity the krogan, I will support it if it saves Palaven and in the bigger picture, the galaxy," his voice took on a solemn tone soon after however, "However, it would take years to formulate one; years we simply don't have. Palaven and all its people will be dead by then."

Wrex let another smug smirk cross his face and Marcus frowned at him as the krogan looked at Victus, "My information says otherwise. May I?" The question at the end was directed at him, and he saw the krogan pointing to the console at the end where Victus stood. Marcus gave a slow nod, not knowing what the battlemaster was up to. Seeing his action was approved, Wrex moved forward, waiting patiently for Victus and Ristu to move, before typing into the console there, activating a holo projector on the paned glass behind them, speaking as he did, "A salarian scientist, Maelon Heplorn, grew a conscience. He was on my planet, testing a cure on our females."

Marcus nodded, remembering the horrible things he had seen in the Clan Weyrloc base, "I remember. His methods were barbaric."

Images began to appear on the screen as Wrex uploaded video feeds from his omni-tool, turning to face it as he spoke, "But what you didn't know, is that other females _survived _his experiments." The krogan moved out of the way, and presented before them was a still image of what looked to be a containment facility, lines of thick bulletproof glass showing tubes filled with what looked to be numerous live, and well, krogan females, along standing behind the glass, looking down at the photographer inquisitively. Another few images were shown, some zooming in, others taken looking from other directions.

As the images flashed across the screen, Wrex continued speaking, elaborating his story, "So the Dalatrass sent in a team to clean up the whole mess," he seemed to growl, but noone was noticing at this point, "And to take them prisoner!" The images made sense now. The sterile clean walls...this was a containment facility these females were in, and there was only one place the Dalatrass would have them taken to...an STG Base.

Linron seemed to struggle for words, "Where did you get this?" Her demand turned into a stuttery excuse of cover-up, "It...It could be a fabrication!"

"Don't insult my intelligence any further than you already have, salarian!" Wrex shouted, shoving a finger in her direction, before pointing back at the images that were still flickering past. It left Marcus wondering just who had taken those photos, "Those are _my _people! They are _immune _to the genophage, and you're going to give them back!"

_Immune? Wait, so does that mean...? Holy shit. _Marcus was lost for words, and barely acknowledged Victus' words as he arrived at Wrex's side, shooting the salarian a disapproving glare, "Dalatrass...is this true?"

To her credit, she didn't even bother admitting it, and cut straight to the chase, turning to face Marcus, "How will the genophage benefit _my _people? Has anyone in this room considered that while you've all ridden the moral high horse, as you humans like to say? What of the salarian people? So far, you've all presented your terms, but none have listened to what the Salarian Union wants."

Fighting fire with fire, he faced the Dalatrass, slapping a hand against the desk in anger, "How long do you think you'll last alone against the Reapers? Because if the Union doesn't help, or anyone of you, for that matter," he eyed the volus specifically, "Then that's how it'll end up."

Victus pitched in his own support, "And I'll be the last friendly turian you ever see."

Linron seemed to finally consider this a moment, looking down at the desk, deep in thought. After what took sometime, the salarian let out a long-winded sigh, as if recovering from a long jog, and stood up, nodding with resignation, but refusing to meet either of their eyes, "The females are being held in one of our STG Bases on Sur'Kesh. More specifically, at Alpha Site, the STG Headquarters."

Marcus nodded, and met Wrex's gaze instantly, giving a sharp nod as he made to leave the room, preparing to inform EDI of their new destination, although she had probably already heard. Just before he could leave the glass enclosure of the conference room however, Linron spoke again, voice rising in pitch as he came to a stop, "But I warn you Captain! The consequences of this will be felt for centuries to come! They'll-"

He turned, and practically snarled at her, doing what Wrex had restrained himself from doing, "Dalatrass, _shut your fucking mouth. _Because I'm done listening," he looked up, "EDI."

"Already set a course Captain," the AI informed him, "ETA is one hour and thirty minutes."

Linron gasped, shaking her head, "You're not setting foot on Sur'Kesh! This will take time and-"

Victus this time responded for the spectre, "It happens _now. _Shepard is a Council Spectre," he nodded to the N7 in question, "As an agent of the Council, he can facilitate the exchange, and act on their authority."

"Fine," Linron hushed, turning away to look out the window, "But I won't forget this, Captain. A bully has few friends when he needs them most."

"If that'll be all, you can now get the hell off my ship," Marcus spat, and quickly left, turning to Wrex as he did, "I guess you'll be hanging around?"

The krogan grinned, "Until the genophage is cured, at least. It'll be just like old times, eh?"

"Liara's back, as is Garrus. Joker's the pilot, Chakwas is the doctor and Adams is chief engineer again. So yeah, I guess it's as close to old times as it'll ever be," he smiled, slapping the krogan's back as they waited for the security checkpoint to let them pass, "Welcome back to the crew Wrex."

"It's good to be back," the krogan returned in full.

Marcus had a feeling everything would be alright.

_If only you were here, Tali. We're going to make history. We're going to cure the genophage._

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1600 hours._

_Harbinger, In Orbit over Palaven, Trebia System, Apien Crest Cluster._

_The Reaper War, Apien Crest Campaign: Battle of Palaven._

_Harbinger._

As one, they watched; one nation, one vessel, millions of souls. They observed the burning planet below them, its every artificial resource being reduced to glass in their genocidal campaign of absolute extermination; every last organic being rounded up and either transformed into a husk, or being saved for the creation of a new Reaper. Their extermination was planned out and methodical; done in the space of seconds and enacted as they assaulted. They were unstoppable, and to organics, unfathomable. They were the sum of everything they could not comprehend, their work beyond their understanding.

They were Harbinger, the first Reaper, the leader of the Reapers, and born from the very species that gave birth to them; the very first organic species to exist, and they had extinguished it. They had been the apex race; the height of organic ascendance, and even they had not prevailed, yet these primitives continued to resist? It would only cost them dearly, and their efforts would be for nothing.

But as Harbinger hovered over Palaven, watching its brethren tackle the turian ships in orbit over Menae and wreaking havok on the surface of the planet below them, the first Reaper came to a simple thought, one that the trillions of souls that made up the Reaper consensus stood still to contemplate. They all formed around one name; Shepard.

Reapers did not feel fear. They did not offer mercy. They were emotionless, flawless in their devotion to the Galactic Harvest, to stopping chaos utterly and completely, and producing salvation to the organics that did not want it. However, they knew how to analyze a threat; many cycles had provided their own, a champion to unite them in the 'darkness', to give them hope for victory; they had all, so far, been harvested, but Shepard was different.

Shepard had killed four of their own, before the invasion had begun.

Shepard was a skilled diplomat, and he knew how to deconstruct a hostile on the battlefield. Time and time again, he had thwarted Reaper victory. Harbinger fully believed and _knew _Reaper victory was an inevitability; it was a matter of certainty, but that did not mean Shepard was beginning to become a serious threat. For the first time in the billions of years that the cycle had been going, the Reapers were uncertain.

Could Shepard actually have a chance at stopping them?

So as Harbinger connected with the entire Reaper armada, a mighty 422,389 ships, he began imputting new orders and commands; stopping Shepard was now a top priority. The Reapers understood that the human found strength in his squadmates, and killing them would weaken his resolve; they were now targets as well. The Reapers had, despite their best efforts, been unable to find the Migrant Fleet Sovereign had reported having existed, but considering quarian status in this cycle, they were not deemed a threat, and largely ignored; they would be dealt with later; for now, Harbinger wanted them focused on what the organics called the 'Council races'; asari, turians, salarians and humans. So far, Earth had fallen to them, and Palaven was within their grasp. He had elected to let the asari believe they were strong for now, and it was unwilling to commit forces to Sur'Kesh just yet. Vanguard had landed on Tuchanka to begin raids, and Oblivion had recently finished decimating the human colony on Theseus II, and had moved on to launching probing attacks against the volus and elcor homeworlds, successfully destroying the defenses around Irune. Harbinger had given Oblivion the forces needed, and they had launched their attack on Irune; it would fall in no time.

But now, even as Harbinger turned from the planet and made best speed for the relay, a small fleet was forming behind him, a hundred strong; a scouting party by their standards. The rest would stay and continue to attack Palaven while Harbinger took a hundred and attacked deep into the Terminus Systems. To any others, it would be an odd invasion, way out of established Reaper territory. But if their indoctrinated agents in the Alliance were correct, one of Shepard's companions, the asari, had a father, and to destroy Shepard, they had to lure him out. With cold Reaper calculation, they knew that if the asari's father was put in danger, Shepard would react aggressively and come to Illium; with him lured out, Harbinger would be able to finally destroy Shepard.

It was the perfect plan.

And it would not fail.

And so, the Reaper party departed the Trebia System, a new destination imputted.

Illium.

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1437 hours._

_Shuttle Bay, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for Sur'Kesh, Pranas System, Annos Basin Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard, Flight Lieutenant Steve Cortez._

The elevator gave a ding as the doors slid open, omitting Marcus entrance into the Shuttle Bay as he stepped out and into the light. He had changed into his normal clothes, his N7 cap along with it, and jumper. The ambassadors had elected to stay onboard until the mission on Sur'Kesh was over, wanting to see if they were successful in their mission. Linron for different reasons, Victus because the Normandy was now his mobile HQ, and the others simply because they could. Although Zymandis had spent a long time interrogating him, which had given him an odd feeling in terms of the hanar assistant. _He seemed very...pokey._

But with basically forty minutes until they reached Sur'Kesh, he wanted to at least do some rounds, and he decided he'd spend them with the two people he had barely spoken to at all; Cortez and Traynor. So here he found himself, walking towards Cortez's console, a little bit of happiness in his step. He gave a brief nod to Wrex, who was now situated behind some crates near where Keeling was located, the krogan when asked where he'd like to be, 'It's like old times isn't it? So its the old spot' and there he was, polishing his hefty claymore shotgun with a bayonet attachment. The krogan grinned, and Marcus found himself grinning in turn, before turning back to Cortez...

...only to stop in his tracks as he heard a sniffle, and the grin dropped from his face. Cortez himself stood at his usual console in the armoury, hunched over a console as he seemed to be listening to something at a low setting; and as he got closer, he heard a male voice speaking from the console, and the second thing he noticed was the sounds of more sniffles; the sound of Cortez silently _sobbing._

As much as Marcus was trying to ignore what was being said, largely out of respect for the man's privacy, he couldn't help the last snippet of it, "-love you."

He could hear the sound of Cortez replying, to his shock, on the console, "What? No, I'm coming to get you. Just hold on. I'll-"

"No, Steve," the man replied, sounding sorrowful, "The whole colony is surrounded; you'll never get through, and they'll just take you too. Run. Hide. Leave me."

"What!? No, Robert! I'm not leaving-"

"I love you Steve, but I know you," the man named Robert replied, "Don't make me an anchor. Promise me Steve!"

The recording stopped, and he heard another silent sob, gone unnoticed within the bay, and as he drew closer, he saw a tear streak from the man's face to land on his chest, soaking into the uniform. The recording had stopped, and he seemed to be going to play it again when Marcus decided enough was enough. _How can he torment himself like that? Whoever that man was, he sounds like he mattered alot to Cortez to have a recording of him. And to be torturing himself by playing it..._He reached out a hand and landed it on Cortez's shoulder, squeezing it. Cortez seemed to jump from the contact, turning around, and Marcus got a full view of the man's teary eyes and dried, wet cheeks; he had been at this for a while, apparently. His eyes widened at the captain's presence though, and he hurriedly minimized the recording, snapping a salute, "C-c-captain! I'm sorry, I-" he sniffled, shaking his head, dropping his hand, "Sir, I can explain-"

He held up a hand, shaking his head, "No need to explain anything Cortez; everyone deserves a break once and while. But I am curious," he pointed to the console, "I...heard...the recording you were listening to. Who was that? Sounded like you cared alot for him...and that he cared for you back."

"He..." he sighed, turning back to the console as he braced over it, wiping his cheeks, "It's nothing, I should get back to work."

"Cortez, those who know me know that I won't leave until they let me solve their social problems," he crossed his arms, accentuating his point.

The man nodded solemnly, not even turning to him as he began in a mutter, slowly beginning to speak louder, "It was a recording from Ferris Fields. It...it was during the Collector abduction of the colony, just over a year ago now. I lost alot of friends that day. I..." he turned to Marcus, suddenly apprehensive, and he seemed hesitant at what to say but, finally, he closed his eyes, and got it out, as if to get it over with, and deal with the humiliation afterwards, "I lost my...my husband."

Marcus would be lying if he wasn't inwardly surprised by that. _Okay then, I can understand his apprehension; even in the 22nd Century, the world isn't very accepting of his...sexual preference. I can't say I'm not one of those. But just because I disagree with it, doesn't mean I hate homosexuals themselves. From what I've seen, Cortez is a good man, and I'm not going to order him to get off my ship just because he's something I disagree with._

Oblivious to his thoughts, Cortez continued, "I grieved. Said my goodbyes. Made my peace..." he sighed, "It was never enough. These recordings are all I have left of him."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Marcus sympathsized, letting his hand fall from the man's shoulder, "You must have cared alot about him."

"He was afraid I wouldn't let go," the pilot stated, laughing mirthlessly, "But for him, I moved on...or at least I deluded myself into thinking I had. Watching these recordings over and over...it just shows I never truly did. That I'll forever be living in the past."

"Its worth hanging on to," Marcus stated, and when he saw Cortez's incredulous look, he shook his head, "When it comes down to it, when the last thing of the person you love is a recording of their last moments, do you take it, or not? I'd do it. Just to hear their voice again. It reminds of you of what they were like when they were alive, even if it meant they died immediately afterwards."

"You make a good point, but I don't know if the price is worth all the torment," Cortez replied, sighing as he rubbed his eyes, Marcus moving to the other side of the console to face him fully, "It just feels like I'm needlessly stabbing myself."

"In times like these, everyone needs a good stab or too. Pain reminds us we're alive, which is what Robert wanted for you, by the sounds of it," Marcus stated sternly, "Don't let it go to waste. Move on. And when he says move on, he means...well, if you find someone else..."

Cortez looked at him in shock for a few seconds before nodding, "Yeah...you're right. But I don't know. It doesn't seem right to just abandon Robert and start courting another man. I mean...it just feels like a betrayal."

"You can talk to Kasumi about that. You may not know it, but Garrus and her are a thing. And before that, she was on a vengeful quest to save the last remnants of her dead boyfriend," he slapped the man on the shoulder, "Kasumi moved on, use her as an example. I'm not saying you should move on immediately, but the option is there. If Robert truly cared, he'd say the same."

"I...you're right. Robert was right. I'll have to make it official at some point," he sighed. After a few moments, he looked up, a blind hope in his eyes as he met Marcus', "But if that were the case, and I decided to be with someone else...I...well..."

"What is it, Cortez?" For some reason, he didn't like where this was going, or the lustful and hopeful look the pilot was giving him.

"Forget it. Its definitely very insubordinate."

"Cortez," he warned, "I'm a very loose captain when it comes to regulation. Spit it out."

"Would you be interested?"

"What?"

"Would you be interested...well..." he pointed between them, "In us?"

It took a full second for him to comprehend what the man was implying and he almost gagged on his non-existent drink/food. He gulped, trying to clear his blocked airways that had somehow become blocked (probably from his shock) and he shook his head, coughing. Cortez suddenly became worried, and moved to grab the man's shoulders, but Marcus shook his head, finally containing himself.

"No no no no," Marcus replied, "I think you misunderstand Cortez."

"What?" the pilot responded, looking deflated and confused, "What do you mean I misunderstand?"

"Do you see this line on my forehead?" he stated, pointing to the faded black line on his forehead that he was careful to never wash too much and now it seemed to stick like a permanent tattoo, "Didn't you ever wonder why I had that?"

"I just assumed it was something you did," he stated, scratching the back of his head, "But how is this relevant?"

"That line, for quarians, is a sign of bondage. It shows that they have been claimed by another and are united in matrimony," he gave Cortez a sad look, although it was more for the pilot's sake, "Cortez, suffice to say, I'm married. Ever heard of Tali'Zorah nar Rayya?"

Cortez looked disheartened, but piped up in interest at who exactly had stolen the man's heart, "Yes, indeed I have."

"She's my wife," Marcus responded, "I love her very much, and I miss her right now so much that its almost killing me. This line on my forehead shows that I'm married to her in the quarian fashion," he then lifted his hand to show the ring on his index finger, "And this shows I'm married to her in human fashion. Besides, Cortez," he added in a joking tone, hoping Cortez wouldn't take offense, "I don't swing that way."

To his immense luck, Cortez seemed to faintly smile, nodding, "I...I understand, I guess. Not the answer I wanted, but...yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck, sighing as he stood back up, nodding, "Thanks captain, I needed that."

"You're more than welcome Cortez," he seemed about to leave, but suddenly stopped, turning back to face the pilot, "Wait, have you had time to bury Robert yet?"

The pilot stopped as he seemed about ready to return to work, and looked at him, shaking his head as his blue eyes met Marcus', "No, I haven't. I let my grief consume me, and in the end, I just focused on my work. Getting shuttle duty to the Normandy was really helpful. But now that I'm doing nothing...the memories just come rushing back."

"We'll be at Sur'Kesh soon," Marcus assured him, coming to stand by the console again, arms crossed, "After that, we'll see if we need to head to the Citadel. If we do, and once we dock, you can go to the Refugee Camp; I've heard they've added a memorial wall for you to add flowers and mourn dead loved ones. That sounds like the best place to start, don't you think?"

"I..." he began to speak, tripping up over his words, "I don't know if I can do that, Shepard."

"I'm not going to order you Cortez; its your personal dilemma. Only you can resolve it," the spectre stated, "Just know that you can. I know it'll be hard, but you need to put Robert to rest; move on like you promised him. I need you at your best Flight Lieutenant, and a man with regrets is a man who's dangerous." He hadn't meant to be so blunt with the last bit, but he needed Cortez to know that. _Even one second of hesitation could mean our deaths if we need extraction. I can't have him hesitating like that._

The pilot took in an intake of breath, and slowly let it out, nodding as he did, "Yeah, you're right, Captain. You're right. I'll...first thing, as soon as we land, that's where I'll head. I...I think might purchase...s-some flowers first."

Marcus gave the man a firm nod and with that Cortez turned, heading over to the parked kodiak in the bay, all of a sudden wielding a welding torch, "Well, I better get to doing some maintenance on the shuttle. I think it took a few hits during our last mission on Eden Prime. Could cause problems on Sur'Kesh, not that I'm expecting a fight or anything."

"That's okay Cortez," Marcus replied simply, smiling, "I'm not either." But as he walked towards the elevator, something in his brain clicked.

_So why do I feel like something bad is going to happen?_

**{Loading...}**

_June 8, 2186_

_1443 hours._

_The Shepards' Quarters, Normandy-Class Stealth Frigate SSV Normandy SR-2, In FTL Inbound for Sur'Kesh, Pranas System, Annos Basin Cluster._

_The Reaper War._

_Captain Marcus Lee Shepard._

"EDI, how far out are we from Sur'Kesh?"

"We will be entering the Pranas System in twelve minutes, Captain," the AI responded, "It will take a further five to reach Sur'Kesh itself."

_Seventeen minutes then. Better get the team ready then. And this time, I'm going in full. We won't need them, but considering how fast shit has gone south in the past, I'm not taking any chances. Hopefully this'll remain as a simple pick-up. _"Copy that, EDI. Inform all team members including Wrex; get to the armoury and tell them to grab their gear; I want the full team for this one, and no doubt Wrex will want to be there. Tell them I'll be down in five."

The AI's response was curt and to the point, "Very well, Captain."

With that, silence shot through the cabin and once more, and with a final look at his terminal, he sighed, standing up as he began to strip, heading into the shower cubicle. As he did, he mused at the empty terminal he left on; the extranet search query left waiting, but not sent. It was a search for news reports on the Migrant Fleet, but all it had come up with was numerous details on the Fleet, a Codex entry, and how many quarians lived on it and then it collapsed into bullshit, racism and anti-quarian propaganda, before eventually ending in the same sort of entries, except for Geth. But what he wanted was the latest news on it; where was the Quarian Flotilla, especially when the galaxy needed them?

_I refuse to acknowledge that the Reapers destroyed them already. They weren't anywhere near the Attican Traverse when they first hit; they were way up in the Terminus. So where are they? Why haven't they approached the Council, or me yet? Tali, where the hell are you? _By the time these thoughts had algomated, he was standing infront of the bathroom sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. All that remained was his pants, and he just stood and looked at the numerous scars covering his torso, and at the steely face in the glass; no, not steely...

...sad.

_"...I'll be back for you. And Earth. I'll bring every fleet I can..."_

Marcus would never forget leaving Anderson behind on Earth, but a part of him knew that the admiral was still down there, fighting the good fight, delaying the Reapers until Marcus could assemble the forces, complete the superweapon, and destroy the enemy. Marcus just wished it was easier. _You'd think with the galaxy falling apart, everyone would leap at the idea of an alliance. Instead I'm racing to Sur'Kesh to help cure the genophage, so that an alliance can be possible. Everyone needs something. _But as he leaned against the sink, he knew deep down he'd have cured the genophage regardless; the krogan deserved it. _They've suffered long enough, and the tactical advantages of krogan that can constantly breed more troops would be ideal if this war becomes more than a year long. _

He was going to cure the genophage. With the help of the very people who birthed it. They weren't just writing history, they were writing it with the ink of irony.

With a final, long-winded sigh, he tore off his pants, stepped below the shower and turned it on full bore, letting the searing hot water touch and fall over his skin. At first it bit and stung, but he quickly acclimated to it, and found himself moving stray bits of beard and hair that slopped all over the place, whilst raising his face directly into the spray, drinking in and then spitting out the boiled water. It was heaven, and seemed to relax his tired muscles. He did this before every mission if he could help it, and it did wonders for his tired body.

Bracing one hand against the wall, he momentarily smiled, and turned to the door, mouth moving before his brain caught up, "Hey Tali! Come join m-" then his brain caught up, and the smile fell, body turning and blowing out an even louder sigh. God, was his cabin quiet these days. No laughter, no moans...not even the sound of talking. Just him, and occassionally EDI when he gave orders or Samantha when he came to fix a technical problem on his terminal. He was lonely as hell, and it always never ceased to eat at him. There were times where he wanted to sob in fear for his potentially dead wife, but he never allowed himself that comfort; to sob now would be to acknowledge defeat, and he'd rather die than do that.

The water got colder faster than he thought it would, and he realized he had been standing in there for a good four minutes. Turning off the spray, he stepped out, grabbing a nearby towel and drying himself off. Quickly wrapping it around his waist, he stepped out, moving over to his locker and grabbing his undersuit; the skin-tight suit he wore under his suit so as to make using it seemless. After putting it on, making sure it was tight, he moved to leave, but as he reached the top step of the second section of his cabin, he heard a knock on the door.

He frowned, coming to a stop as he blankly looked at the door for a second. He wondered just who would be up here. _Noone comes up to my cabin; they just request to speak to me. Even Garrus waits until I'm in the Mess Hall to speak to me. EDI could just contact me through the PA, and Samantha usually requests permission to stand on this very __**deck, **__let alone the cabin. So just who is waiting outside? Please don't tell me its Linron._

"Enter," he shouted, voice hesitant as he made the last step, moving over to stand on the corner seperating his bathroom from the rest of the deck.

The door shot open, and he watched the form of a hanar, of all things, come into view. He couldn't exactly differentiate between them, so he had no idea whether it was Delanyder or Zymandis who he was talking to, but he quickly found out as he spoke, "And you are?"

"This one's name is Zymandis," the hanar responded, "This one was present at the War Summit."

Marcus nodded slowly, crossing his arms, "Okay, nice to meet you in person, Zymandis. Did you need something? We'll be arriving at Sur'Kesh soon, and I need to get ready." It was only then that he noticed a glint of metal, followed by shifting plastic on the hanar's other side. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but his visual query was quickly answered when he suddenly found a carnifex pistol aiming at his head, pink, transparent slime that could only be hanar blood dripping from it.

"This one will not allow you to cure the genophage," Zymandis spoke, "The Enkindlers believe it to be sin, and punishes sin."

Marcus' eyes widened, and he held up his hands, trying to find out just why the hanar would be doing this. _Cerberus doesn't hire aliens, and certainly not a hanar...they'd just send Kai Leng, so...wait, that only leaves indoctrination. Shit, Zymandis must be indoctrinated. Its the only way to explain it. I thought he looked suspicious._

"How did you get that weapon past security?" Marcus pondered, "The Conference Room has a security field, which acts a metal detector."

"This one was gifted with jamming signals," the hanar drolly replied, "It scrambled the scanning of the field, allowing this one access. As for the weapon itself, it was hidden in this one's stomach. Hanar do not require mouths, so one only requires a tentacle to enter my body, and retrieve it." The gun did not shift in the hanar's grip, and Marcus looked down, seeing it gripped by one, strong tentacle, seemingly hovering in place as the hanar looked at him. The hanar's explanation made sense; they were incredibly easy to kill because their bodies were like jelly; you could put your hand right through, like they were transparent.

"Okay then, very smart," Marcus stated, gulping, "But why do you think the Enkindlers would want this? The Reapers destroyed your gods. You should be fighting them, not me. Avenge your Enkindlers." It was common knowledge that the hanar worshipped the protheans, or 'Enkindlers,' as they called them, as gods, and part of that religion was the, now delusional, belief that they created the Citadel and Mass Relays, when it is now clear the Reapers did.

"The Reapers turned the Enkindlers into the ones you know as the Collectors. They were ascended to a higher form, given new life, and they became gods. The Reapers gave them new meaning. Without that meaning, we would be lost," the hanar preached, actually believing its crap, "The Enkindlers became the Collectors, and the Collectors served the Reapers. Therefore, _we _must serve the Reapers."

_If there's stupidity of a higher form than this, than I haven't witnessed it. Even the Council's logic made more sense than this. _Despite the situation, Marcus couldn't help the words coming from his mouth, "_You..._You _big._ _Stupid._ _Jellyfish!_"

Seemingly angered by this, the hanar prepared to press the trigger when Marcus reacted first, biotics flashing and his hand swipping the hanar's tentacle away. The hand cannon remained in Zymandis' grip however, and Marcus launched another biotic attack, slamming the hanar assistant against the wall with major force. The weapon discarded, Marcus moved to pick it up, but was stopped when he heard the booming voice of evil enter his hearing.

_**"Shepard!" **_Harbinger boomed, _**"We will end this!"**_

Just as Marcus turned to the hanar, who had been the source of the voice, he suddenly found two tentacles wrapping around his neck and beginning to constrict, causing him to grab onto them in surprise. He coughed and gasped, his lungs begging for air as the hanar began to relieve him of it. He continued to try and pry the damn thing off, but it seemed to have gained unnatural strength from Harbinger's possession, and was now pushing him down against his desk, slowly choking him to death. But Marcus didn't give in, even when he felt the edges of his vision beginning to fade.

As his head bumped against the desk, he saw, out of the corner of his blackening vision, he saw the glass of his models case. Suddenly, an idea clicked into his head, and he was snapping into action.

His left arm rapidly shot up, and he braced himself for the coming pain as his wildly flaying arm slammed into the glass, shattering into tiny glass fragments with a boom. He could felt his body and Zymandis showered in glass, bits of it cutting into his arms, but leaving his chest alone, largely due to the undersuit. Ignoring the pain, he let his left arm fall and began blindly searching for a large piece of glass. Finding it, he found his purchase on it, gripping it hard, and sent his arm flying back, this time sending it into an uppercut.

He heard a bellowing screech and an alienated strangled cry as the constriction on his throat relieved itself. He coughed and swallowed, suddenly regretting it as he coughed back up what he had swallowed, feeling something cold and sticky on his face. Opening his eyes, he found his face coated in pink liquid; hanar blood. The screeching continued as he stood up, quickly falling to the ground as his lack of oxygen made him numb all over. He cried out as his hand landed on a tiny shard of glass, impaling it on the shard as he landed. Wincing, he tore the thing out, thanking God that the wound wasn't that deep, placing pressure on it with his other hand to stop the blood flow. Remembering his predicament, he quickly turned, ready for battle.

He needn't have bothered. Zymandis was on the ground, pink blood spewing from its body as it danced on the ground, tentacles flying as it screamed its agony. As Harbinger departed its servant, its last words seemed to echo through his mind, as they always did with the Reaper leader, _**"This isn't over, Shepard. Continue to fight, but know you will lose. The cycle cannot be stopped." **_And then the Reaper's presence was gone, and there was just Marcus and the hanar.

The door shot open again, and Marcus found himself preparing for any backup; maybe Delanyder was indoctrinated too. Instead, he watched Garrus rush in, fully armoured and mattock heavy rifle in hand, Wrex and Liara at his sides, both holding a claymore shotgun and Tempest SMG respectively, both of the latter glowing with biotic intent. But as Zymandis came into view, they ceased and lowered their weapons, eyes landing on Marcus' form.

"I knew we shouldn't have bothered," Wrex muttered, holstering his shotgun, "Any pyjak dumb enough to attack Shepard will die too quickly."

"We had a quarian try something like this before, and he almost succeeded. Best not to take chances," Garrus returned, but holstered his rifle nonetheless as he came to kneel before the dying hanar, pink blood now flowing across the cabin floor. He turned to Liara, "Go grab a towel, clean this up."

The asari nodded, rushing over to grab the towel Marcus had hung up below, giving Marcus a quick once over before doing so, alleviating any concern she had, holstering her SMG as she did.

Wrex moved to Marcus, grinning, looking at the bloodied hand Marcus was holding, "You cut yourself?" he looked at the glass littering the floor from the case, also noticing the few models that had either exploded outwards from Marcus hitting it and hitting the sofa, or simply falling onto his desk, "Good thing you have regeneration, then. And I know you at least have that."

"Yes, thanks Wrex. I do remember," the spectre deadpanned, shaking his head, "And I'm okay, thanks for asking."

"You'll get over it," the krogan grumbled, turning to Garrus, who was turning the now dead Zymandis over, "Get anything from the pyjak?"

"What, you mean this?" the turian waved the shard of glass in the air, shaking his head, tossing it to the ground as he stood up, lightly kicking the dead hanar's body, "Yeah, sure. Apart from that though, all we've got is a dead hanar. What exactly happened? EDI told us the hanar assistant attacked you."

"He was indoctrinated," the N7 explained, walking over and kneeling over the hanar's body himself, seeing it was now completely lifeless, "Reapers must have ordered him to try and assassinate me. Harbinger possessed him, and he pulled a pistol; smuggled in by hiding it _inside _his own body. He was choking me to death, so the only way to kill him I could find was to break the glass, grab a shard, and stab him with it. Guess it worked."

"Thanks spirit for that. It'd be embarassing for you if the one thing that finally killed you was a lucky hanar _assistant_," Garrus quipped, but suddenly his grin dropped, realizing something, "Wait, if Zymandis was indoctrinated, then what about-"

Just as Liara arrived and began to mop up Zymandis' blood, Chakwas' voice came over the comm, sounding grim, "Shepard, we have a problem in the Crew's Quarters. You better get down here immediately."

Marcus' eyes and Garrus' met in an instant, and they practically dove into the elevator, hitting the button for the Crew Deck almost spastically. They wanted for a bit until it finally arrived, both shooting out, Marcus' bleeding hand almost completely ignored as they burst into the quarters. What they found caused them to stop, and for Marcus to loudly curse to himself as he saw who Chakwas was kneeling over.

It was Delanyder. His pink blood seeped through the bunks and leaked over the floor, and some of it looked dried; meaning he had been dead for at least a few minutes. His body was just as cold as Zymandis' cadaver, with the usualy perputual glow now gone, three of his tentacles lying on the ground, having been cut off. Chakwas shook her head sorrowfully at him, and Marcus quickly left the room, backing into a wall as he slid to the ground, taking slow deep breaths. He simply eyed the closed door, unbelieving. The hanar ambassador had been murdered, and his murderer now lay dead in the Captain's Quarters.

The door opened again, Chakwas stepping outside and coming to stand over him, taking her gloves off, "He was already dead when I arrived, Captain. I was coming to talk with Adams; we had planned to have dinner together. I clocked off early, and when I went to prep the table, that's what I found in the corner. The blood was still fresh, so he had only been killed a minute before I arrived. I don't know who was behind it, however."

"Zymandis," he answered for her, and before she could ask how he knew that, he shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly, "How do I know? He now lies dead in my cabin, having tried to do the same thing to me. He was indoctrinated, had a pistol, and basically waltzed right onto my ship. An indoctrinated agent of Harbinger. Now we have one dead ambassador, and no testimony."

"We have yours," Chakwas bluntly replied. But before she could ask any further, she saw his bleeding hand, his pulse causing it to bubble out incessantly, and she was next to him in seconds, applying medi-gel to the wound, "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Seemed like the least of our worries," Marcus drolly replied. The doctor scowled at him, but before she could give him a verbal lashing, EDI's voice spoke over the PA, directed at him.

"We are now in system, Captain," the AI declared, "ETA to Sur'Kesh is five minutes."

"Copy that. Tell Garrus, Wrex and Liara to meet me in the Shuttle Bay," he ordered, moving to stand as the medi-gel began to set in, "I'll be down in a moment to collect my gear."

Chakwas immediately tried to force him back down, but he ignored her objections as he began to head for the elevator. She shouted out from behind him, "Just where do you think you're going? You need to rest."

"From a cut in the hand? Please Chakwas, I'm not even a doctor, and I know bullshit. I'll walk it off," he turned to her just before entering the elevator, Garrus quickly reappearing to join him, "I need to be down there on Sur'Kesh to keep Wrex calm if the salarians piss him off, and to see the female krogan escorted safely offworld."

"'Escorted safely?' You're going to STG HQ. Noone will attack you there except STG, and they have no reason to do so," she growled, hands on her hips, "What trouble are you expecting?"

He grinned slightly, despite the situation, as he always managed to do, "I drag danger behind me like an incessant virus, Chakwas. Explosions and gunshots are my forte, remember? I can practically smell something about to happen; that's why I'm bringing the full squad. Nonetheless, we should be back soon, if I'm wrong."

"See Chakwas?" Garrus responded, a smirk on his mandibles, "He can learn. He has embraced the inner-psycho inside of him. Now he's got a Mako to embrace it with too."

"You get in the elevator, dino," Marcus hissed, mostly out of mirth as he followed behind him, "Chakwas is scolding me enough. Don't need you fueling it."

And then the elevator door closed, and they descended to the armoury and to head down to the salarian homeworld. And if all things went alright, they'd be out fine, dead hanar ambassador and assassin alike, not counting.

That's if, which isn't likely by Marcus' luck, a few explosions weren't involved.

**"So now you went down to Sur'Kesh?"**

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Yes. We went down there to recover the female krogan, bring her offworld, and then begin formulating a cure with some of the Union's top scientists. That was the plan anyway. Of course, I was right. Explosions were to follow."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

**"What happened down there on the salarian homeworld?" **

**- Reia'Inas pav Earth.**

**"Peace, then noise. I'll elaborate..."**

**- Marcus Shepard.**

_**A/N:**_

_**You guessed it: Priority: Sur'Kesh is up next in Chapter 13: Hope in the Darkness. Like most of my story-based campaign mission chapters, it'll probably get unintentionally and ridiculously long, so I'd be prepared just in case. And considering the amount of chance encounters with past characters, and new ones, it'll be even longer. I'll try and make it as short as possible.**_

_**In response Myron22: Never! I will write when the inspiration comes to me; and I just happen to be one caffeine right now, which means my writing will be very flippant, full of life and continous; which is good for the audience, because that means faster, incoming chapters. And for some reason, since I like doing main story mission chapters, I'll probably be ripping straight into Sur'Kesh tomorrow morning, and then continue the rest of the day; again, that's if inspiration isn't lacking. Which it won't be...hopefully.**_

_**Until then...**_

_**Keelah Se'lai, troopers!**_


End file.
